ONTrtE  PLHINS 


TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS 


TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS 

OR 
GEN'L  CUSTER  IN  KANSAS  AND  TEXAS 


BY 
ELIZABETH  B.  CUSTER 

AUTHOR  OF  "  BOOTS  AND  SADDLES" 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  L.  WEBSTER  &  COMPANY 
1893 


Copyright,  1887, 
CHARLES  L.  WEBSTER  &  CO, 

(All  rights  reserved.} 


PRESS  OF 

JENKINS  &  McCowAN, 

NEW   YORK. 


ACADEMY  OF 
PACIFIC  COAST 

HISTORY 


TO   HIM 

WHOSE  BRAVE  AND   BLITHE   ENDURANCE 
MADE  THOSE   WHO   FOLLOWED 

HIM   FORGET, 

IN    HIS   SUNSHINY   PRESENCE, 
HALF  THE   HARDSHIP  AND  THE   DANGER 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I  PAGE 

GOOD-BY   TO   THE   ARMY   OF  THE    POTOMAC I? 

CHAPTER  II 
NEW  ORLEANS  AFTER  THE  WAR 41 

CHAPTER  III 
A  MILITARY  EXECUTION 59 

CHAPTER  IV 
MARCHES  THROUGH  PINE  FORESTS       83 

CHAPTER  V 
OUT  OF  THE  WILDERNESS 95 

CHAPTER  VI 
A  TEXAS  NORTHER 113 

CHAPTER  VII 
LIFE  IN  A  TEXAS  TOWN 132 

CHAPTER  VIII 
LETTERS  HOME .150 

CHAPTER  IX 
DISTURBED  CONDITION  OF  TEXAS 165 

CHAPTER  X 
GENERAL  CUSTER   PARTS  WITH   HIS  STAFF  AT  CAIRO  AND 

DETROIT 185 

vii 


Viii  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XI  PAGE 

ORDERS  TO  REPORT  AT  FORT  RILEY,  KANSAS 205 

CHAPTER  XII 
WESTWARD  Ho! — FIGHTING  DISSIPATION  IN  THE  SEVENTH 

CAVALRY — GENERAL  CUSTER'S  TEMPTATIONS    ....     222 

CHAPTER  XIII 
A  MEDLEY  OF  OFFICERS  AND  MEN       256 

CHAPTER  XIV 
THE  COURSE  OF  TRUE  LOVE 279 

CHAPTER  XV 
A  PRAIRIE  FIRE 310 

CHAPTER  XVI 
SACRIFICES  AND  SELF-DENIAL  OF  PIONEER  DUTY — CAPTAIN 

ROBBINS    AND     COLONEL     COOK    ATTACKED,    AND    FlGHT 

FOR  THREE  HOURS 327 

CHAPTER  XVII 
A  FLOOD  AT  FORT  HAYS 356 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

ORDERED  BACK  TO  FORT  HARKER 373 

CHAPTER  XIX 
THE  FIRST  FIGHT  OF  THE  SEVENTH  CAVALRY 387 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

Smoking  the  Pipe  of  Peace FRONTISPIECE 

Texas  in  1866  and  in  1886 19 

Eliza  Cooking  Under  Fire 28 

A  Mule  Lunching  from  a  Pillow 78 

General  Custer  as  a  Cadet 87 

"O  Golly!  whatamdat?"        108 

Measuring  an  Alligator 125 

General  Custer  at  the  Close  of  the  War — Aged  25        ...  168 

"  Stand    there,    cowards,    will    you,   and    see   an   old    man 

robbed?" .     .  188 

General  Custer  with  his  Horse  Vic,  Stag  Hounds  and  Deer 

Hounds 212 

Kansas  in  1866  and  Kansas  To-day 221 

Conestoga  Wagon,  or  Prairie-Schooner 223 

The  Officer's  Dress — A  New-comer  for  a  Call 239 

A  Suspended  Equestrienne 246 

General  Custer  at  his  Desk  in  his  Library 259 

Gun-stand  in  General  Custer's  Library 287 

Trophies  of  the  Chase  in  General  Custer's  Library      .     .     .  297 

Whipping  Horses  to  Keep  them  from  Freezing        ....  316 

A  Match  Buffalo  Hunt 341 


X  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

Gathering  and  Counting  the  Tongues 343 

Supper  Given  by  the   Vanquished    to   the  Victors    of   the 

Match  Buffalo  Hunt 345 

A  Buffalo  Undecided  as  to  an  Attack  on  General  Custer       .  368 

A  Buffalo  at  Bay 377 

The  Addled  Letter-Carrier 385 

Negroes  Form  their  own  Picket-line 389 

An  Attack  on  a  Stage-coach .  392 


TENTING  ON  THE   PLAINS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GOOD-BY  TO  THE   ARMY   OF  THE  POTOMAC. 

GENERAL  CUSTER  was  given  scant  time,  after  the  last  gun 
of  the  war  was  fired,  to  realize  the  blessings  of  peace.  While 
others  hastened  to  discard  the  well-worn  uniforms,  and  don 
again  the  dress  of  civilians,  hurrying  to  the  cars,  and  groan- 
ing over  the  slowness  of  the  fast-flying  trains  that  bore  them 
to  their  homes,  my  husband  was  almost  breathlessly  prepar- 
ing for  a  long  journey  to  Texas.  He  did  not  even  see  the  last 
of  that  grand  review  of  the  23d  and  24th  of  May,  1865.  On 
the  first  day  he  was  permitted  to  doff  his  hat  and  bow  low,  as 
he  proudly  led  that  superb  body  of  men,  the  Third  Division 
of  Cavalry,  in  front  of  the  grand  stand,  where  sat  the  "  powers 
that  be."  Along  the  line  of  the  division,  each  soldier  straight- 
ened himself  in  the  saddle,  and  felt  the  proud  blood  fill  his 
veins,  as  he  realized  that  he  was  one  of  those  who,  in  six 
months,  had  taken  1 1 1  of  the  enemy's  guns,  sixty-five  battle- 
flags,  and  upward  of  10,000  prisoners  of  war,  while  they  had 
never  lost  a  flag,  or  failed  to  capture  a  gun  for  which  they 
fought. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  memorable  day  General  Custerand 
his  staff  rode  to  the  outskirts  of  Washington,  where  his  be- 
loved Third  Cavalry  Division  had  encamped  after  returning 
from  taking  part  in  the  review.  The  trumpet  was  sounded, 
and  the  call  brought  these  war-worn  veterans  out  once  more, 

17 


1 8  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

not  for  a  charge,  not  for  duty,  but  to  say  that  word  which  we, 
who  have  been  compelled  to  live  in  its  mournful  sound  so 
many  years,  dread  even  to  write.  Down  the  line  rode  their 
yellow-haired  "  boy  general,"  waving  his  hat,  but  setting  his 
teeth  and  trying  to  hold  with  iron  nerve  the  quivering  mus- 
cles of  his  speaking  face;  keeping  his  eyes  wide  open,  that 
the  moisture  dimming  their  vision  might  not  gather  and  fall. 
Cheer  after  cheer  rose  on  that  soft  spring  air.  Some  enthu- 
siastic voice  started  up  afresh,  before  the  hurrahs  were  done, 
"  A  tiger  for  old  Curley !  "  Off  came  the  hats  again,  and  up 
went  hundreds  of  arms,  waving  the  good-by  and  wafting  in- 
numerable blessings  after  the  man  who  was  sending  them 
home  in  a  blaze  of  glory,  with  a  record  of  which  they  might 
boast  around  their  firesides.  I  began  to  realize,  as  I  watched 
this  sad  parting,  the  truth  of  what  the  General  had  been  tell- 
ing me;  he  held  that  no  friendship  was  like  that  cemented 
by  mutual  danger  on  the  battle-field. 

The  soldiers,  accustomed  to  suppression  through  strict  mili- 
tary discipline,  now  vehemently  expressed  their  feelings;  and 
though  it  gladdened  the  General's  heart,  it  was  still  the 
hardest  sort  of  work  to  endure  it  all  without  show  of  emo- 
tion. As  he  rode  up  to  where  I  was  waiting,  he  could  not, 
dared  not,  trust  himself  to  speak  to  me.  To  those  intrepid 
men  he  was  indebted  for  his  success.  Their  unfailing  trust 
in  his  judgment,  their  willingness  to  follow  where  he  led — 
ah !  he  knew  well  that  one  looks  upon  such  men  but  once  in 
a  lifetime.  Some  of  the  soldiers  called  out  for  the  General's 
wife.  The  staff  urged  me  to  ride  forward  to  the  troops,  as  it 
was  but  a  little  thing  thus  to  respond  to  their  good-by.  I 
tried  to  do  so,  but  after  a  few  steps,  I  begged  those  beside 
whom  I  rode  to  take  me  back  to  where  we  had  been  standing. 
I  was  too  overcome,  from  having  seen  the  suffering  on  my 
husband's  face,  to  endure  any  more  sorrow. 

As  the  officers  gathered  about  the  General  and  wrung  his 
hand  in  parting,  to  my  surprise  the  soldiers  gave  me  a  cheer. 
Though  very  grateful  for  the  tribute  to  me  as  their  acknowl- 
edged comrade,  I  did  not  feel  that  I  deserved  it.  Hardships 


At      *    X    /    C    O    * 


TEXAS  IN   1866  AND  IN   1 8 86. 


20  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

such  as  they  had  suffered  for  a  principle  require  a  far  higher 
order  of  character  than  the  same  hardships  endured  when  the 
motive  is  devotion  individualized. 

Once  more  the  General  leaped  into  the  saddle,  and  we  rode 
rapidly  out  of  sight.  How  glad  I  was,  as  I  watched  the  set 
features  of  my  husband's  face,  saw  his  eyes  fixed  immovably 
in  front  of  him,  listened  in  vain  for  one  word  from  his  over- 
burdened heart,  that  I,  being  a  woman,  need  not  tax  every 
nerve  to  suppress  emotion,  but  could  let  the  tears  stream 
down  my  face,  on  all  our  silent  way  back  to  the  city. 

Then  began  the  gathering  of  our  "  traps,"  a  hasty  collec- 
tion of  a  few  suitable  things  for  a  Southern  climate,  orders 
about  shipping  the  horses,  a  wild  tearing  around  of  the  im- 
provident, thoughtless  staff — good  fighters,  but  poor  provid- 
ers for  themselves.  Most  of  them  were  young  men,-  for 
whom  my  husband  had  applied  when  he  was  made  a  briga- 
dier. His  first  step  after  his  promotion  was  to  write  home 
for  his  schoolmates,  or  select  aides  from  his  early  friends  then 
in  service.  It  was  a  comfort,  when  I  found  myself  grieving 
over  the  parting  with  my  husband's  Division,  that  our  mili- 
tary family  were  to  go  with  us.  At  dark  we  were  on  the 
cars,  with  our  faces  turned  southward.  To  General  Custer 
this  move  had  been  unexpected.  General  Sheridan  knew 
that  he  needed  little  time  to  decide,  so  he  sent  for  him  as 
soon  as  we  encamped  at  Arlington,  after  our  march  up  from 
Richmond,  and  asked  if  he  would  like  to  take  command  of 
a  division  of  cavalry  on  the  Red  River  in  Louisiana,  and 
march  throughout  Texas,  with  the  possibility  of  event- 
ually entering  Mexico.  Our  Government  was  just  then 
thinking  it  was  high  time  the  French  knew  that  if  there  was 
any  invasion  of  Mexico,  with  an  idea  of  a  complete  "gob- 
bling up"  of  that  country,  the  one  to  do  the  seizure  and 
gather  in  the  spoils  was  Brother  Jonathan.  Very  wisely, 
General  Custer  kept  this  latter  part  of  the  understanding  why 
he  was  sent  South  from  the  "weepy "part  of  his  family. 
He  preferred  transportation  by  steamer,  rather  than  to  be 
floated  southward  by  floods  of  feminine  tears.  All  I  knew 


GOOD-BV  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.      21 

was,  that  Texas,  having  been  so  outside  of  the  limit  where 
the  armies  marched  and  fought,  was  unhappily  unaware  that 
the  war  was  over,  and  continued  a  career  of  bushwhacking 
and  lawlessness  that  was  only  tolerated  from  necessity  before 
the  surrender,  and  must  now  cease.  It  was  considered  ex- 
pedient to  fit  out  two  detachments  of  cavalry,  and  start  them 
on  a  march  through  the  northern  and  southern  portions  of 
Texas,  as  a  means  of  informing  that  isolated  State  that  dep- 
redations and  raids  might  come  to  an  end.  In  my  mind, 
Texas  then  seemed  the  stepping-off  place;  but  I  was  indiffer- 
ent to  the  points  of  the  compass,  so  long  as  I  was  not  left 
behind. 

The  train  in  which  we  set  out  was  crowded  with  a  joyous, 
rollicking,  irrepressible  throng  of  discharged  officers  and 
soldiers,  going  home  to  make  their  swords  into  ploughshares. 
Everybody  talked  with  everybody,  and  all  spoke  at  once. 
The  Babel  was  unceasing  night  and  day;  there  was  not  a 
vein  that  was  not  bursting  with  joy.  The  swift  blood  rushed 
into  the  heart  and  out  again,  laden  with  one  glad  thought, 
"  The  war  is  over!  "  At  the  stations,  soldiers  tumbled  out 
and  rushed  into  some  woman's  waiting  arms,  while  bands 
tooted  excited  welcomes,  no  one  instrument  according  with 
another,  because  of  throats  overcharged  already  with  bursting 
notes  of  patriotism  that  would  not  be  set  music.  The  cus- 
tomary train  of  street  gamins,  who  imitate  all  parades  and 
promptly  copy  the  pomp  of  the  circus  and  other  processions, 
stepped  off  in  a  mimic  march,  following  the  conquering  heroes 
as  they  were  lost  to  our  sight  down  the  street,  going  home. 

Sometimes  the  voices  of  the  hilarious  crowd  at  the  station 
were  stilled,  and  a  hush  of  reverent  silence  preceded  the  care- 
ful lifting  from  the  car  of  a  stretcher  bearing  a  form  broken 
and  bleeding  from  wounds,  willingly  borne,  that  the  home 
to  which  he  was  coming  might  be  unharmed.  Tender  wo- 
men received  and  hovered  lovingly  over  the  precious  freight, 
strong  arms  carried  him  away;  and  we  contrasted  the  devoted 
care,  the  love  that  would  teach  new  ways  to  heal,  with  the 
condition  of  the  poor  fellows  we  had  left  in  the  crowded 


22  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Washington  hospitals,  attended  only  by  .strangers.  Some  of 
the  broken-to-pieces  soldiers  were  on  our  train,  so  deftly 
mended  that  they  stumped  their  way  down  the  platform,  and 
began  their  one-legged  tramp  through  life,  amidst  the  loud 
huzzas  that  a  maimed  hero  then  received.  They  even  joked 
about  their  misfortunes.  I  remember  one  undaunted  fellow, 
with  the  fresh  color  of  buoyant  youth  beginning  again  to  dye 
his  cheek,  even  after  the  amputation  of  a  leg,  which  so  de- 
pletes the  system.  He  said  some  grave  words  of  wisdom  to 
me  in  such  a  roguish  way,  and  followed  up  his  counsel  by 
adding,  "  You  ought  to  heed  such  advice  from  a  man  with 
one  foot  in  the  grave." 

We  missed  all  the  home-coming,  all  the  glorification  award- 
ed to  the  hero.  General  Custer  said  no  word  of  regret.  He 
had  accepted  the  offer  for  further  active  service,  and  grate- 
fully thanked  his  chief  for  giving  him  the  opportunity.  I, 
however,  should  have  liked  to  have  him  get  some  of  the  cele- 
brations that  our  country  was  then  showering  on  its  defend- 
ers. I  missed  the  bonfires,  the  processions,  the  public  meet- 
ing of  distinguished  citizens,  who  eloquently  thanked  the 
veterans,  the  editorials  that  lauded  each  townsman's  deed, 
the  poetry  in  the  corner  of  the  newspaper  that  was  dedicated 
to  a  hero,  the  overflow  of  a  woman's  heart  singing  praise  to 
her  military  idol.  But  the  cannon  were  fired,  the  drums  beat, 
the  music  sounded  for  all  but  us.  Offices  of  trust  were  of- 
fered at  once  to  men  coming  home  to  private  life,  and  towns 
and  cities  felt  themselves  honored  because  some  one  of  their 
number  had  gone  out  and  made  himself  so  glorious  a  name 
that  his  very  home  became  celebrated.  He  was  made  the 
mayor,  or  the  Congressman,  and  given  a  home  which  it 
would  have  taken  him  many  years  of  hard  work  to  earn. 
Song,  story  and  history  have  long  recounted  what  a  hero  is 
to  a  woman.  Imagination  pictured  to  my  eye  troops  of 
beautiful  women  gathering  around  each  gallant  soldier  on 
his  return.  The  adoring  eyes  spoke  admiration,  while  the 
tongue  subtly  wove,  in  many  a  sentence,  its  meed  of  praise. 
The  General  and  his  staff  of  boys,  loving  and  reverencing 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.      23 

women,  missed  what  men  wisely  count  the  sweetest  of  adula- 
tion. One  weather-beaten  slip  of  a  girl  had  to  do  all  their 
banqueting,  cannonading,  bonfiring,  brass-banding,  and  gen- 
eral hallelujahs  all  the  way  to  Texas,  and — yes,  even  after  we 
got  there;  for  the  Southern  women,  true  to  their  idea  of  pa- 
triotism, turned  their  pretty  faces  away  from  our  handsome 
fellows,  and  resisted,  for  a  long  time,  even  the  mildest  flirtation. 

The  drawing-room  car  was  then  unthought  of  in  the  minds 
of  those  who  plan  new  luxuries  as  our  race  demand  more 
ease  and  elegance.  There  was  a  ladies'  car,  to  which  no  men 
unaccompanied  by  women  were  admitted.  It  was  never  so 
full  as  the  other  coaches,  and  was  much  cleaner  and  better 
ventilated. 

This  was  at  first  a  damper  to  the  enjoyment  of  a  military 
family,  who  lost  no  opportunity  of  being  together,  for  it  com- 
pelled the  men  to  remain  in  the  other  cars.  The  scamp 
among  us  devised  a  plan  to  outwit  the  brakemen;  he  bor- 
rowed my  bag  just  before  we  were  obliged  to  change  cars, 
and  after  waiting  till  the  General  and  I  were  safely  seated, 
boldly  walked  up  and  demanded  entrance,  on  the  plea  that 
he  had  a  lady  inside.  This  scheme  worked  so  well  that  the 
others  took  up  the  cue,  and  my  cloak,  bag,  umbrella,  lunch- 
basket,  and  parcel  of  books  and  papers  were  distributed 
among  the  rest  before  we  stopped,  and  were  used  to  obtain 
entrance  into  the  better  car.  Even  our  faithful  servant,  Eliza, 
was  unexpectedly  overwhelmed  with  urgent  offers  of  assist- 
ance; for  she  always  went  with  us,  and  sat  by  the  door. 
This  plan  was  a  great  success,  in  so  far  as  it  kept  our  party 
together,  but  it  proved  disastrous  to  me,  as  the  scamp  forgot 
my  bag  at  some  station,  and  I  was  minus  all  those  hundred- 
and-one  articles  that  seem  indispensable  to  a  traveler's  com- 
fort. In  that  plight  I  had  to  journey  until,  in  some  merciful 
detention,  we  had  an  hour  in  which  to  seek  out  a  shop,  and 
hastily  make  the  necessary  purchases. 

At  one  of  our  stops- for  dinner  we  all  made  the  usual  rush 
for  the  dining-hall,  as  in  the  confusion  of  over-laden  trains 
at  that  excited  time  it  was  necessary  to  hurry,  and,  besides, 


24  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

as  there  were  delays  and  irregularities  in  traveling,  on  account 
of  the  home-coming  of  the  troops,  we  never  knew  how  long 
it  might  be  before  the  next  eating-house  was  reached.  The 
General  insisted  upon  Eliza's  going  right  with  us,  as  no  other 
table  was  provided.  The  proprietor,  already  rendered  indif- 
ferent to  people's  comfort  by  his  extraordinary  gains,  said 
there  was  no  table  for  servants.  Eliza,  the  best-bred  of  maids, 
begged  to  go  back  dinnerless  into  the  car,  but  the  General 
insisted  on  her  sitting  down  between  us  at  the  crowded  table. 
A  position  so  unusual,  and  to  her  so  totally  out  of  place, 
made  her  appetite  waver,  and  it  vanished  entirely  when  the 
proprietor  came,  and  told  the  General  that  no  colored  folks 
could  be  allowed  at  his  table.  My  husband  quietly  replied 
that  he  had  been  obliged  to  give  the  woman  that  place,  as 
the  house  had  provided  no  other.  The  determined  man  still 
stood  threateningly  over  us,  demanding  her  removal,  and 
Eliza  uneasily  and  nervously  tried  to  go.  I  trembled,  and 
the  fork  failed  to  carry  the  food,  owing  to  a  very  wobbly  arm. 
The  General  firmly  refused,  the  staff  rose  about  us,  and  all 
along  the  table  up  sprang  men  we  had  supposed  to  be  citizens, 
as  they  were  in  the  dress  of  civilians.  "  General,  stand  your 
ground;  we'll  back  you;  the  woman  shall  have  food."  How 
little  we  realize  in  these  piping  times  of  peace,  how  great  a 
flame  a  little  fire  kindled  in  those  agitating  days.  The  pro- 
prietor slunk  back  to  his  desk;  the  General  and  his  hungry 
staff  went  on  eating  as  calmly  as  ever;  Eliza  hung  her  em- 
barrassed head,  and  her  mistress  idly  twirled  her  useless  fork 
— while  the  proprietor  made  $1.50  clear  gain  on  two  women 
that  were  too  frightened  to  swallow  a  mouthful.  I  spread  a 
sandwich  for  Eliza,  while  the  General,  mindful  of  the  return- 
ing hunger  of  the  terrified  woman,  and  perfectly  indifferent 
as  to  making  himself  ridiculous  with  parcels,  marched  by  the 
infuriated  but  subdued  bully,  with  either  a  whole  pie  or  some 
such  modest  capture  in  his  hand.  We  had  put  some  hours 
of  travel  between  ourselves  and  the  "  twenty-minutes-for-din- 
ner"  place  which  came  so  near  being  a  battle-ground,  before 
Eliza  could  eat  what  we  had  brought  for  her. 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.   25 

I  wonder  if  any  one  is  waiting  for  me  to  say  that  this  inci- 
dent happened  south  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon  line.  It  did 
not.  It  was  in  Ohio — I  don't  remember  the  place.  After 
all,  the  memory  over  which  one  complains,  when  he  finds 
how  little  he  can  recall,  has  its  advantages.  It  hopelessly 
buries  the  names  of  persons  and  places,  when  one  starts  to 
tell  tales  out  of  school.  It  is  like  extracting  the  fangs  from 
a  rattlesnake;  the  reptile,  like  the  story,  may  be  very  disagree- 
able, but  I  can  only  hope  that  a  tale  unadorned  with  names 
or  places  is  as  harmless  as  a  snake  with  its  poison  withdrawn. 

1  must  stop  a  moment  and  give  our  Eliza,  on  whom  this 
battle  was  waged,  a  little  space  in  this  story,  for  she  occupied 
no  small  part  in  the  events  of  the  six  years  after;  and  when 
she  left  us  and  took  an  upward  step  in  life  by  marry  ing  a  color- 
ed lawyer,  I  could  not  reconcile  myself  to  the  loss;  and  though 
she  has  lived  through  all  the  grandeur  of  a  union  with  a 
man  "  who  gets  a  heap  of  money  for.  his  speeches  in  politics, 
and  brass  bands  to  meet  him  at  the  stations,  Miss  Libbie," 
she  came  to  my  little  home  not  long  since  with  tears  of 
joy  illuminating  the  bright  bronze  of  her  expressive  face. 
It  reminded  me  so  of  the  first  time  I  knew  that  the  negro 
race  regarded  shades  of  color  as  a  distinctive  feature,  a  beauty 
or  a  blemish,  as  it  might  be.  Eliza  stood  in  front  of  a  bronze 
medallion  of  my  husband  when  it  was  first  sent  from  the 
artist's  in  1865,  and  amused  him  hugely,  by  saying,  in  that 
partnership  manner  she  had  in  our  affairs,  "  Why,  Ginnel,  it's 
jest  my  color."  After  that,  I  noticed  that  she  referred  to  her 
race  according  to  the  deepness  of  tint,  telling  me,  with  scorn, 
of  one  of  her  numerous  suitors:  "  Why,  Miss  Libbie,  he  need- 
ent  think  to  shine  up  to  me;  he's  nothing  but  a  black  Afri- 
can." I  am  thus  introducing  Eliza,  color  and  all,  that  she 
may  not  seem  the  vague  character  of  other  days;  and  whoever 
chances  to  meet  her  will  find  in  her  a  good  war  historian,  a 
modest  chronicler  of  a  really  self-dying  and  courageous  life. 
It  was  rather  a  surprise  to  me  that  she  was  not  an  old  woman 
when  I  saw  her  again  this  autumn,  after  so  many  years,  but 
she  is  not  yet  fifty.  I  imagine  she  did  so  much  mothering 


26  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

in  those  days  when  she  comforted  me  in  my  loneliness,  and 
quieted  me  in  my  frights,  that  I  counted  her  old  even  then. 

Eliza  requests  that  she  be  permitted  to  make  her  little  bow 
to  the  reader,  and  repeat  a  wish  of  hers  that  I  take  great 
pains  in  quoting  her,  and  not  represent  her  as  saying,  "like 
field-hands,  w/iar  and  thar"  She  says  her  people  in  Vir- 
ginia, whom  she  reverences  and  loves,  always  taught  her  not 
to  say  "them  words;  and  if  they  should  see  what  I  have  told 
you  they'd  feel  bad  to  think  I  forgot."  If  whar  and  thar  ap- 
pear occasionally  in  my  efforts  to  transfer  her  literally  to 
these  pages,  it  is  only  a  lapsus  lingua  on  her  part.  Besides, 
she  has  lived  North  so  long  now,  there  is  not  that  distinctive 
dialect  peculiar  to  the  Southern  servant;  In  her  excitement, 
narrating  our  scenes  of  danger  or  pleasure  or  merriment,  she 
occasionally  drops  into  expressions  that  belonged  to  her 
early  life.  It  is  the  fault  of  her  historian  if  these  phrases  get 
into  print.  To  me  they  are  charming,  for  they  are  Eliza  in 
undress  uniform — Eliza  without  her  company  manners. 

She  describes  her  leaving  the  old  plantation  during  war 
times:  "I  jined  the  Ginnel  at  Amosville,  Rappahannock 
County,  in  August,  1863.  Everybody  was  excited  over  free- 
dom, and  I  wanted  to  see  how  it  was.  Everybody  keeps  ask- 
ing me  why  I  left.  I  can't  see  why  they  can't  recollect  what 
war  was  for,  and  that  we  was  all  bound  to  try  and  see  for 
ourselves  how  it  was.  After  the  'Mancipation,  everybody 
was  a-standinf  up  for  liberty,  and  I  wasent  goin'  to  stay  home 
when  everybody  else  was  a-goin'.  The  day  I  came  into 
camp,  there  was  a  good  many  other  darkeys  from  all  about 
our  place.  We  wasa-standin'  round  waitin'  when  I  first  seed 
the  Ginnel. 

"  He  and  Captain  Lyon  cum  up  to  me,  and  the  Ginnel 
says,  'Well,  what's  your  name!'  I  told  him  Eliza;  and  he 
says,  looking  me  all  over  fust,  '  Well,  Eliza,  would  you  like 
to  cum  and  live  with  me?  '  I  waited  a  minute,  Miss  Libbie. 
I  looked  him  all  over,  too,  and  finally  I  sez,  '  I  reckon  I 
would.'  So  the  bargain  was  fixed  up.  But,  oh,  how  awful 
lonesome  I  was  at  fust,  and  I  was  afraid  of  everything  in  the 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.      27 

shape  of  war.  I  used  to  wish  myself  back  on  the  old  planta- 
tion with  my  mother.  I  was  mighty  glad  when  you  cum, 
Miss  Libbie.  Why,  sometimes  I  never  sot  eyes  on  a  woman 
for  weeks  at  a  time." 

Eliza's  story  of  her  war  life  is  too  long  for  these  pages;  but 
in  spite  of  her  confession  of  being  so  "  'fraid,"she  was  a  mar- 
vel of  courage.  She  was  captured  by  the  enemy,  escaped, 
and  found  her  way  back  after  sunset  to  the  General's  camp. 
She  had  strange  and  narrow  escapes.  She  says,  quaintly  : 
"Well,  Miss  Libbie,  I  set  in  to  see  the  war,  beginning  and 
end.  There  was  many  niggers  that  cut  into  cities  and  hud- 
dled upthar,  and  laid  around  and  saw  hard  times;  but  I  went 
to  see  the  end,  and  I  stuck  it  out.  I  allus  thought  this,  that 
I  didn't  set  down  to  wait  to  have  'em  all  free  me.  I  helped 
to  free  myself.  I  was  all  ready  to  step  to  the  front  whenever 
I  was  called  upon,  even  if  I  didn't  shoulder  the  musket. 
Well,  I  went  to  the  end,  and  there's  many  folks  says  that  a 
woman  can't  follow  the  army  without  throwing  themselves 
away,  but  I  know  better.  I  went  in,  and  I  cum  out  with  the 
respect  of  the  men  and  the  officers." 

Eliza  often  cooked  under  fire,  and  only  lately  one  of  the 
General's  staff,  recounting  war  days,  described  her  as  she  was 
preparing  the  General's  dinner  in  the  field.  A  shell  would 
burst  near  her;  she  would  turn  her  head  in  anger  at  being 
disturbed,  unconscious  that  she  was  observed,  begin  to  growl 
to  herself  about  being  obliged  to  move,  but  take  up  her  ket- 
tle and  frying-pan,  march  farther  away,  make  a  new  fire,  and 
begin  cooking  as  unperturbed  as  if  it  were  an  ordinary  dis- 
turbance instead  of  a  sky  filled  with  bits  of  falling  shell.  I 
do  not  repeat  that  polite  fiction  of  having  been  on  the  spot, 
as  neither  the  artist  nor  I  had  Eliza's  grit  or  pluck;  but  we 
arranged  the  camp-kettle,  and  Eliza  fell  into  the  exact  ex- 
pression, as  she  volubly  began  telling  the  tale  of  "  how  mad 
those  busting  shells  used  to  make  her."  It  is  an  excellent 
likeness,  even  though  Eliza  objects  to  the  bandana,  which 
she  has  abandoned  in  her  new  position ;  and  I  must  not  for- 
get that  1  found  her  one  day  turning  her  head  critically  from 


ELIZA   COOKING    UNDER   FIRE. 
28 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.      2Q 

side  to  side  looking  at  her  picture;  and,  out  of  regard  to  her, 
will  mention  that  her  nose,  of  which  she  is  very  proud,  is, 
she  fears,  a  touch  too  flat  in  the  sketch.  She  speaks  of  her 
dress  as  "completely  whittled  out  with  bullets,"  but  she 
would  like  me  to  mention  that  "she  don't  wear  them  rags 
now." 

When  Eliza  reached  New  York  this  past  autumn,  she  told 
me,  when  I  asked  her  to  choose  where  she  would  go,  as  my 
time  was  to  be  entirely  given  to  her,  that  she  wanted  first  to 
go  to  the  Fifth  Avenue  Hotel  and  see  if  it  looked  just  the 
same  as  it  did  "when  you  was  a  bride,  Miss  Libbie,  and  the 
Ginnel  took  you  and  me  thereon  leave  of  absence."  We 
went  through  the  halls  and  drawing-rooms,  narrowly  watched 
by  the  major-domo,  who  stands  guard  over  tramps,  but  for- 
tified by  my  voice,  she  "  oh'd  "  and  "  ah'd  "  over  its  gran- 
deur to  her  heart's  content.  One  day  I  left  her  in  Madison 
Square,  to  go  on  a  business  errand,  and  cautioned  her  not  to 
stray  away.  When  I  returned  I  asked  anxiously,  "  Did  any 
one  speak  to  you,  Eliza?"  "  Everybody,  Miss  Libbie,"  as 
nonchalant  and  as  complacent  as  if  it  were  her  idea  of  New 
York  hospitality.  Then  she  begged  me  to  go  round  the 
Square,  "  to  hunt  a  lady  from  Avenue  A,  who  see'd  you  pass 
with  me,  Miss  Libbie,  and  said  she  knowed  you  was  a  lady, 
though  I  reckon  she  couldn't  'count  for  me  and  you  bein' to- 
gether." We  found  the  Avenue  A  lady,  and  I  was  present- 
ed, and,  to  her  satisfaction,  admired  the  baby  that  had  been 
brought  over  to  that  blessed  breathing-place  of  our  city. 

The  Elevated  railroad  was  a  surprise  to  Eliza.  She  "didn't 
believe  it  would  be  so  high. "  At  that  celebrated  curve  on  the 
Sixth  Avenue  line,  where  Monsieur  de  Lesseps,  even,  exclaim- 
ed, "  Mon  Dieu  !  but  the  Americans  are  a  brave  people," 
the  poor,  frightened  woman  clung  to  me  and  whispered, 
"  Miss  Libbie,  couldn't  we  get  down  anyway?  Miss  Libbie, 
I'se  seed  enough.  I  can  tell  the  folks  at  home  all  about  it 
now.  Oh,  I  never  did  'spect  to  be  so  near  heaven  till  I  went 
up  for  good." 

At  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  she  demurred.     She  is  so  intelli- 


30  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

gent  that  I  wanted  to  have  her  see  the  shipping,  the  wharves, 
the  harbor,  and  the  statue  of  Liberty;  but  nothing  kept  her 
from  flight  save  her  desire  to  tell  her  townspeople  that  she 
had  seen  the  place  where  the  crank  jumped  off.  The  police- 
man, in  answer  to  my  inquiry,  commanded  us  in  martial 
tones  to  stay  still  till  he  said  the  word ;  and  when  the  wagon 
crossing  passed  the  spot,  and  the  maintainer  of  the  peace 
said  "Now!"  Eliza  shivered  and  whispered,  "Now,  let's 
go  home,  Miss  Libbie.  I  dun  took  the  cullud  part  of  the 
town  fo'  I  come;  the  white  folks  hain't  seen  what  I  has,  and 
they'll  be  took  when  I  tell  'em;"  and  off  she  toddled,  for  Eliza 
is  not  the  slender  woman  I  once  knew  her. 

Her  description  of  the  Wild  West  exhibition  was  most  droll. 
I  sent  her  down  because  we  had  lived  through  so  many  of  the 
scenes  depicted,  and  I  felt  sure  that  nothing  would  recall  so 
vividly  the  life  on  the  frontier  as  that  most  realistic  and  faith- 
ful representation  of  a  Western  life  that  has  ceased  to  be, 
with  advancing  civilization.  She  went  to  Mr.  Cody's  tent 
after  the  exhibition,  to  present  my  card  of  introduction,  for 
he  had  served  as  General  Ouster's  scout  after  Eliza  left  us, 
and  she  was,  therefore,  unknown  to  him  except  by  hearsay. 
They  had  twenty  subjects  in  common;  for  Eliza,  in  her  way, 
was  as  deserving  of  praise  as  was  the  courageous  Cody.  She 
was  delighted  with  all  she  saw,  and  on  her  return  her  de- 
scription of  it,  mingled  with  imitations  of  the  voices  of  the 
hawkers  and  the  performers,  was  so  incoherent  that  it  pre- 
sented only  a  confused  jumble  to  my  ears.  The  buffalo  were 
a  surprise,  a  wonderful  revival  to  her  of  those  hunting-days 
when  our  plains  were  darkened  by  the  herds.  "  When  the 
buffalo  cum  in,  I  was  ready  to  leap  up  and  holler,  Miss  Lib- 
bie; it  'minded  me  of  ole  times.  They  made  me  think  of 
the  fifteen  the  Ginnel  fust  struck  in  Kansas.  He  jest  pushed 
down  his  ole  hat,  and  went  after  'em  linkety-clink.  Well, 
Miss  Libbie,  when  Mr.  Cody  come  up,  I  see  at  once  his  back 
and  hips  was  built  precisely  like  the  Ginnel,  and  when  I  come 
on  to  his  tent,  I  jest  said  to  him:  '  Mr.  Buffalo  Bill,  when 
you  cum  up  to  the  stand  and  wheeled  round,  I  said  to  myself, 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.   31 

"  Well,  if  he  ain't  the  'spress  image  of  Ginnel  Custer  in  bat- 
tle I  never  seed  any  one  that  was!  "  '  I  jest  wish  he'd  come  to 
my  town  and  give  a  show  !  He  could  have  the  hull  fair- 
ground there.  My  !  he  could  raise  money  so  fast  'twouldn't 
take  him  long  to  pay  for  a  church.  And  the  shootin'  and 
ridin'  !  why,  Miss  Libbie,  when  I  seed  one  of  them  ponies 
brought  out,  I  know'd  he  was  one  of  the  hatefulest,  sulki- 
est ponies  that  ever  lived.  He  was  a-prancin'  and  curvin', 
and  he  jest  stretched  his  ole  neck  and  throwed  the  men  as 
fast  as  ever  they  got  on." 

After  we  had  strolled  through  the  streets  for  many  days, 
Eliza  always  amusing  me  by  her  droll  comments,  she  said  to 
me  one  day:  "  Miss  Libbie,  you  don't  take  notice,  when  me 
and  you's  walking  on,  a-lookin'  into  shop-windows  and 
a-gazin'  at  the  new  things  I  never  see  before,  how  the  folks 
does  stare  at  us.  But  I  see  'em  a-gazin',  and  I  can  see  'em 
a-ponderin'  and  sayin'  to  theirsel's,  '  Well,  I  do  declar'!  that's 
a  lady,  there  ain't  no  manner  of  doubt.  She's  one  of  the 
bong  tong;  but  whatever  she's  a-doin'  with  that  old  scrub 
nigger,  I  can't  make  out.'  "  I  can  hardly  express  what  a  rec- 
reation and  delight  it  was  to  go  about  with  this  humorous 
woman  and  listen  to  her  comments,  her  unique  criticisms, 
her  grateful  delight,  when  she  turned  on  the  street  to  say: 
"  Oh,  what  a  good  time  me  and  you  is  having,  Miss  Libbie, 
and  how  I  will  'stonish  them  people  at  home  ! "  The  best  of 
it  all  was  the  manner  in  which  she  brought  back  our  past, 
and  the  hundred  small  events  we  recalled,  which  were  made 
more  vivid  by  the  imitation  of  voice,  walk,  gesture  she  gave 
in  speaking  of  those  we  followed  in  the  old  marching  days. 

On  this  journey  to  Texas  some  accident  happened  to  our 
engine,  and  detained  us  all  night.  We  campaigners,  accus- 
tomed to  all  sorts  of  unexpected  inconveniences,  had  learned 
not  to  mind  discomforts.  Each  officer  sank  out  of  sight  into 
his  great-coat  collar,  and  slept  on  by  the  hour,  while  I  slum- 
bered till  morning,  curled  up  in  a  heap,  thankful  to  have  the 
luxury  of  one  seat  to  myself.  We  rather  gloried  over  the 
citizens  who  tramped  up  and  down  the  aisle,  groaning  and 


32  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

becoming  more  emphatic  in  their  language  as  the  night  ad- 
vanced, indulging  in  the  belief  that  the  women  were  too 
sound  asleep  to  hear  them.  I  wakened  enough  to  hear  one 
old  man  say,  fretfully,  and  with  many  adjectives:  "  Just  see 
how  those  army  folks  sleep;  they  can  tumbledown  anywhere, 
while  I  am  so  lame  and  sore,  from  the  cramped-up  place  I 
am  in,  I  can't  even  doze."  As  morning  came  we  noticed  our 
scamp  at  the  other  end  of  the  car,  with  his  legs  stretched 
comfortably  on  the  seat  turned  over  in  front  of  him.  All 
this  unusual  luxury  he  accounted  for  afterward,  by  telling  us 
the  trick  that  his  ingenuity  had  suggested  to  obtain  more 
room.  "You  see,"  the  wag  said,  "two  old  codgers  sat 
down  in  front  of  my  pal  and  me,  late  last  night,  and  went  on 
counting  up  their  gains  in  the  rise  of  corn,  owing  to  the  war, 
which,  to  say  the  least,  was  harrowing  to  us  poor  devils  who 
had  fought  the  battles  that  had  made  them  rich  and  left  us 
without  a  'red.'  I  concluded,  if  that  was  all  they  had  done 
for  their  country,  two  of  its  brave  defenders  had  more  of  a 

right  to  the  seat  than  they  had.     I  just  turned  to  H and 

began  solemnly  to  talk  about  what  store  I  set  ,by  my  old 
army  coat,  then  on  the  seat  they  occupied;  said  I  couldn't 
give  it  up,  though  I  had  been  obliged  to  cover  a  comrade 
who  had  died  of  small-pox,  I  not  being  afraid  of  contagion, 
having  had  varioloid.  Well,  I  got  that  far  when  the  eyes  of 
the  old  galoots  started  out  of  their  heads,  and  they  vamoosed 
the  ranche,  I  can  tell  you,  and  I  saw  them  peering  through 
the  window  at  the  end  of  the  next  car,  the  horror  still  in  their 
faces."  The  General  exploded  with  merriment.  How  strange 
it  seems,  to  contrast  those  noisy,  boisterous  times,  when  ev- 
erybody shouted  with  laughter,  called  loudly  from  one  end 
of  the  car  to  the  other,  told  stories  for  the  whole  public  to 
hear,  and  sang  war-songs,  with  the  quiet,  orderly  travelers  of 
nowadays,  who,  even  in  the  tremor  of  meeting  or  parting, 
speak  below  their  breath,  and,  ashamed  of  emotion,  quickly 
wink  back  to  its  source  the  prehistoric  tear. 

We  bade  good-by  to  railroads  at  Louisville,  and  the  jouney- 
ing  south  was  then  made  by  steamer.   How  peculiar  it  seemed 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.      33 

to  us,  accustomed  as  we  were  to  lake  craft  with  deep  hulls, 
to  see  for  the  first  time  those  flat-bottomed  boats  drawing  so 
little  water,  with  several  stories,  and  upper  decks  loaded  with 
freight.  I  could  hardly  rid  myself  of  the  fear  that,  being  so 
top-heavy,  we  would  blow  over.  The  tempests  of  our  west- 
ern lakes  were  then  my  only  idea  of  sailing  weather.  Then 
the  long,  sloping  levees,  the  preparations  for  the  rise  of  water, 
the  strange  sensation,  when  the  river  was  high,  of  looking 
over  the  embankment,  down  upon  the  earth  !  It  is  a  novel 
feeling  to  be  for  the  first  time  on  a  great  river,  with  such  a 
current  as  the  Mississippi  flowing  on  above  the  level  of  the 
plantations,  hemmed  in  by  an  embankment  on  either  side. 
Though  we  saw  the  manner  of  its  construction  at  one  point 
where  the  levee  was  being  repaired,  and  found  how  firmly 
and  substantially  the  earth  was  fortified  with  stone  and  logs 
against  the  river,  it  still  seemed  to  me  an  unnatural  sort  of 
voyaging  to  be  above  the  level  of  the  ground;  and  my  tremors 
on  the  subject,  and  other  novel  experiences,  were  instantly 
made  use  of  as  a  new  and  fruitful  source  of  practical  jokes. 
For  instance,  the  steamer  bumped  into  the  shore  anywhere 
it  happened  to  be  wooded,  and  an  army  of  negroes  appeared, 
running  over  the  gang-plank  like  ants.  Sometimes  at  night 
the  pine  torches,  and  the  resinous  knots  burning  in  iron 
baskets  slung  over  the  side  of  the  boat,  made  a  weird  and 
gruesome  sight,  the  shadows  were  so  black,  the  streams  of 
light  so  intense,  while  the  hurrying  negroes  loaded  on  the 
wood,  under  the  brutal  voice  of  a  steamer's  mate.  Once  a 
negro  fell  in.  They  made  a  pretense  of  rescuing  him,  gave 
it  up  soon,  and  up  hurried  our  scamp  to  the  upper  deck  to 
tell  me  the  horrible  tale.  He  had  good  command  of  lan- 
guage, and  allowed  no  scruples  to  spoil  a  story.  After  that 
I  imagined,  at  every  night  wood-lading,  some  poor  soul  was 
swept  down  under  the  boat  and  off  into  eternity.  The  Gen- 
eral was  sorry  for  me,  and  sometimes,  when  I  imagined  the 
calls  of  the  crew  to  be  the  despairing  wail  of  a  dying  man, 
he  made  pilgrimages,  for  my  sake,  to  the  lower  deck  to  make 
sure  that  no  one  was  drowned.  My  imaginings  were  not 


34  TENTING   ON    THE    PLAINS. 

always  so  respected,  for  the  occasion  gave  too  good  an  oppor- 
tunity for  a  joke,  to  be  passed  quietly  by.  The  scamp  and 
my  husband  put  their  heads  together  soon  after  this,  and 
prepared  a  tale  for  the  "  old  lady,"  as  they  called  me.  As 
we  were  about  to  make  a  landing,  they  ran  to  me  and  said, 
"  Come,  Libbie,  hurry  up  !  hurry  up  !  You'll  miss  the  fun  if 
you  don't  scrabble."  "Miss  what?"  was  my  very  natural 
question,  and  exactly  the  reply  they  wanted  me  to  make. 
"  Why,  they're  going  to  bury  a  dead  man  when  we  land."  I 
exclaimed  in  horror,  "Another  man  drowned?  how  can 
you  speak  so  irreverently  of  death  ?  "  With  a  "  do  you  sup- 
pose the  mate  cares  for  one  darkey  more  or  less  ?  "  they  drag- 
ged me  to  the  deck.  There  1  saw  the  great  cable  which  was 
used  to  tie  us  up,  fastened  to  a  strong  spar,  the  two  ends  of 
which  were  buried  in  the  bank.  The  ground  was  hollowed 
out  underneath  the  centre,  and  the  rope  slipped  under  to 
fasten  it  around  the  log.  After  I  had  watched  this  process 
of  securing  our  boat  to  the  shore,  these  irrepressibles  said, 
solemnly,  "The  sad  ceremony  is  now  ended,  and  no  other 
will  take  place  till  we  tie  up  at  the  next  stop. "  When  it 
dawned  upon  me  that  "tying  up"  was  called,  in  steamer 
vernacular,  "  burying  a  dead  man,"  my  eyes  returned  to  their 
proper  place  in  the  sockets,  breath  came  back,  and  indigna- 
tion filled  my  soul.  Language  deserts  us  at  such  moments, 
and  I  resorted  to  force. 

The  Ruth  was  accounted  one  of  the  largest  and  most  beauti- 
ful steamers  that  had  ever  been  on  the  Mississippi  River,  her 
expenses  being  $1,000  a  day.  The  decorations  were  sumptu- 
ous, and  we  enjoyed  every  luxury.  We  ate  our  dinners  to 
very  good  music,  which  the  boat  furnished.  We  had  been 
on  plain  fare  too  long  not  to  watch  with  eagerness  the  arrival 
of  the  procession  of  white-coated  negro  waiters,  who  each 
day  came  in  from  the  pastry-cook  with  some  new  device  in 
cake,  ices,  or  confectionery.  There  was  a  beautiful  Ruth 
gleaning  in  a  field,  in  a  painting  that  filled  the  semicircle 
over  the  entrance  of  the  cabin.  Ruths  with  sheaves  held  up 
the  branches  of  the  chandeliers,  while  the  pretty  gleaner 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF.  THE  POTOMAC.   35 

looked  out  from  the  glass  of  the  stateroom  doors.  The  cap- 
tain being  very  patient  as  well  as  polite,  we  pervaded  every 
corner  of  the  great  boat.  The  General  and  his  boy-soldiers 
were  too  accustomed  to  activity  to  be  quiet  in  the  cabin. 
Even  that  unapproachable  man  at  the  wheel  yielded  to  our 
longing  eyes,  and  let  us  into  his  round  tower.  Oh,  how  good 
he  was  to  me  !  The  General  took  me  up  there,  and  the  pilot 
made  a  place  for  us,  where,  with  my  bit  of  work,  I  listened 
for  hours  to  his  stories.  My  husband  made  fifty  trips  up  and 
down,  sometimes  detained  when  we  were  nearing  an  interest- 
ing point,  to  hear  the  story  of  the  crevasse.  Such  tales  were 
thrilling  enough  even  for  him,  accustomed  as  he  then  was  to 
the  most  exciting  scenes.  The  pilot  pointed  out  places 
where  the  river,  wild  with  the  rush  and  fury  of  spring  fresh- 
ets, had  burst  its  way  through  the  levees,  and,  sweeping  over 
a  peninsula,  returned  to  the  channel  beyond,  utterly  anni- 
hilating and  sinking  out  of  sight  forever  the  ground  where 
happy  people  had  lived  on  their  plantations.  It  was  a  sad 
time  to  take  that  journey,  and  even  in  the  midst  of  our  in- 
tense enjoyment  of  the  novelty  of  the  trip,  the  freedom  from 
anxiety,  and  the  absence  of  responsibility  of  any  kind,  I  re- 
call how  the  General  grieved  over  the  destruction  of  planta- 
tions by  the  breaks  in  the  levee.  The  work  on  these  embank- 
ments was  done  by  assessment,  I  think.  They  were  cared 
for  as  our  roads  and  bridges  are  kept  in  order,  and  when  men 
were  absent  in  the  war,  only  the  negroes  were  left  to  attend 
to  the  repairing.  But  the  inundations  then  were  slight,  com- 
pared with  many  from  which  the  State  has  since  suffered. 
In  1874  thirty  parishes  were  either  wholly  or  partly  overflowed 
by  an  extraordinary  rise  in  the  river.  On  our  trip  we  saw  one 
plantation  after  another  submerged,  the  grand  old  houses 
abandoned,  and  standing  in  lakes  of  water,  while  the  negro 
quarters  and  barns  were  almost  out  of  sight.  Sometimes  the 
cattle  huddled  on  a  little  rise  of  ground,  helpless  and  pitiful. 
We  wished,  as  we  used  to  do  in  that  beautiful  Shenandoah 
Valley,  that  if  wars  must  come,  the  devastation  of  homes 
might  be  avoided;  and  I  usually  added,  with  one  of  the 


36  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

totally  impracticable  suggestions  conjured  up  by  a  woman, 
that  battles  might  be  fought  in  desert  places. 

A  Southern  woman,  who  afterward  entertained  us,  de- 
scribed, in  the  graphic  and  varied  language  which  is  their 
gift,  the  breaking  of  the  levee  on  their  own  plantation.  How 
stealthily  the  small  stream  of  water  crept  on  and  on,  until 
their  first  warning  was  its  serpent-like  progress  past  their 
house.  Then  the  excitement  and  rush  of  all  the  household 
to  the  crevasse,  the  hasty  gathering  in  of  the  field-hands, 
and  the  homely  devices  for  stopping  the  break  until  more 
substantial  materials  could  be  gathered.  It  was  a  race  for 
life  on  all  sides.  Each  one,  old  or  young,  knew  that  his 
safety  depended  on  the  superhuman  effort  of  the  first  hour  of 
danger.  In  our  safe  homes  we  scarcely  realize  what  it  would 
be  to  look  out  from  our  windows  upon,  what  seemed  to  me, 
a  small  and  insufficient  mound  of  earth  stretching  along  the 
frontage  of  an  estate,  and  know  that  it  was  our  only  rampart 
against  a  rushing  flood,  which  seemed  human  in  its  revenge- 
ful desire  to  engulf  us. 

The  General  was  intensely  interested  in  those  portions  of 
the  country  where  both  naval  and  land  warfare  had  been 
carried  on.  At  Island  No.  10,  and  Fort  Pillow  especially, 
there  seemed,  even  then,  no  evidence  that  fighting  had  gone 
on  so  lately.  The  luxuriant  vegetation  of  the  South  had 
covered  the  fortifications;  nature  seemed  hastening  to  throw 
a  mantle  over  soil  that  had  so  lately  been  reddened  with  such 
a  precious  dye.  The  fighting  had  been  so  desperate  at  the 
latter  point,  it  is  reported  the  Confederate  General  Forrest 
said :  ' '  The  river  was  dyed  with  the  blood  of  the  slaughtered 
for  two  hundred  yards." 

At  one  of  our  stops  on  the  route,  the  Confederate  General 
Hood  came  on  board,  to  go  to  a  town  a  short  distance  be- 
low, and  my  husband,  hearing  he  was  on  the  boat,  hastened 
to  seek  him  out  and  introduce  himself.  Such  reunions  have 
now  become  common,  I  am  thankful  to  say,  but  I  confess  to 
watching  curiously  every  expression  of  those  men,  as  it  seemed 
very  early,  in  those  times  of  excited  and  vehement  conduct, 


GOOD-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.   37 

to  begin  such  overtures.  And  yet  I  did  not  forget  that  my 
husband  sent  messages  of  friendship  to  his  classmates  on  the 
other  side  throughout  the  war.  As  I  watched  this  meeting, 
they  looked,  while  they  grasped  each  other's  hand,  as  if  they 
were  old-time  friends  happily  united.  After  they  had  carried 
on  an  animated  conversation  for  awhile,  my  husband,  always 
thinking  how  to  share  his  enjoyment,  hurried  to  bring  me 
into  the  group.  General  Custer  had  already  taught  me,  even 
in  those  bitter  times,  that  he  knew  his  classmates  fought 
from  their  convictions  of  right,  and  that,  now  the  war  was 
over,  I  must  not  be  adding  fuel  to  a  fire  that  both  sides 
should  strive  to  smother. 

General  Hood  was  tall,  fair,  dignified  and  soldierly.  He 
used  his  crutch  with  difficulty,  and  it  was  an  effort  for  him 
to  rise  when  I  was  presented.  We  three  instantly  resumed 
the  war  talk  that  my  coming  had  interrupted.  The  men 
plied  each  other  with  questions  as  to  the  situation  of  troops 
at  certain  engagements,  and  the  General  fairly  bombarded 
General  Hood  with  inquiries  about  the  action  on  their  side 
in  different  campaigns.  At  that  time  nothing  had  been 
written  for  Northern  papers  and  magazines  by  the  South.  All 
we  knew  was  from  the  brief  accounts  in  the  Southern  news- 
papers that  our  pickets  exchanged,  and  from  papers  cap- 
tured or  received  from  Europe  by  way  of  blockade-runners. 
We  were  greatly  amused  by  the  comical  manner  in  which 
General  Hood  described  his  efforts  to  suit  himself  to  an  arti- 
ficial leg,  after  he  had  contributed  his  own  to  his  beloved 
cause.  In  his  campaigns  he  was  obliged  to  carry  an  extra 
one,  in  case  of  accident  to  the  one  he  wore,  which  was 
strapped  to  his  led  horse.  He  asked  me  to  picture  the  sur- 
prise of  the  troops  who  captured  all  the  reserve  horses  at 
one  time,  and  found  this  false  leg  of  his  suspended  from 
the  saddle.  He  said  he  had  tried  five,  at  different  times, 
to  see  which  of  the  inventions  was  lightest  and  easiest 
to  wear;  "and  I  am  obliged  to  confess,  Mrs.  Custer,  much 
as  you  may  imagine  it  goes  against  me  to  do  so,  that  of 
the  five — English,  German,  French,  Yankee  and  Confed- 


38  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

erate— the  Yankee  leg  was"  the  best  of  all."  When  Gen- 
eral Custer  carefully  helped  the  maimed  hero  down  the 
cabin  stairs  and  over  the  gangway,  we  bade  him  good-by 
with  real  regret — so  quickly  do  soldiers  make  and  cement  a 
friendship  when  both  find  the  same  qualities  to  admire  in 
each  other. 

The  novelty  of  Mississippi  travel  kept  even  our  active, 
restless  party  interested.  One  of  our  number  played  guitar  ac- 
companiments, and  we  sang  choruses  on  deck  at  night,  forget- 
ting that  the  war-songs  might  grate  on  the  ears  of  some  of  the 
people  about  us.  The  captain  and  steamer's  crew  allowed 
us  to  roam  up  and  down  the  boat  at  will,  and  when  we  found, 
by  the  map  or  crew,  that  we  were  about  to  touch  the  bank 
in  a  hitherto  unvisited  State,  we  were  the  first  to  run  over 
the  gang-plank  and  caper  up  and  down  the  soil,  to  add  a  new 
State  to  our  fast-swelling  list  of  those  in  which  we  had  been. 
We  rather  wondered,  though,  what  we  would  do  if  asked 
questions  by  our  elders  at  home  as  to  what  we  thought  of 
Arkansas,  Mississippi  and  Tennessee,  as  we  had  only  scam- 
pered on  and  off  the  river  bank  of  those  States  while  the 
wooding  went  on.  We  were  like  children  let  out  of  school, 
and  everything  interested  us.  Even  the  low  water  was  an 
event.  The  sudden  stop  of  our  great  steamer,  which,  large 
as  it  was,  drew  but  a  few  feet  of  water,  made  the  timbers 
groan  and  the  machinery  creak.  Then  we  took  ourselves  to 
the  bow,  where  the  captain,  mate  and  deck-hands  were  pre- 
paring for  a  siege,  as  the  force  of  the  engines  had  ploughed 
us  deep  into  a  sand-bar.  There  was  wrenching,  veering  and 
struggling  of  the  huge  boat;  and  at  last  a  resort  to  those  two 
spars  which  seem  to  be  so  uselessly  attached  to  each  side  of 
the  forward  deck  of  the  river  steamers.  These  were  swung 
out  and  plunged  into  the  bank,  the  rope  and  tackle  put  into 
use,  and  with  the  aid  of  these  stilts  we  were  skipped  over  the 
sand-bar  into  the  deeper  water.  It  was  on  that  journey  that 
I  first  heard  the  name  Mr.  Clemens  took  as  his  nom  de  plume, 
The  droning  voice  of  the  sailor  taking  soundings,  as  we 
slowly  crept  through  low  water,  called  out,  "  Mark  twain  !" 


GOOU-BY  TO  THE  ARMY  OF  THE  POTOMAC.      39 

and  the  pilot  answered  by  steering  the  boat  according  to  the 
story  of  the  plumb-line. 

The  trip  on  a  Mississippi  steamer,  as  we  knew  it,  is  now 
one  of  the  things  of  the  past.  It  was  accounted  then,  and 
before  the  war,  our  most  luxurious  mode  of  travel.  Every 
one  was  sociable,  and  in  the  constant  association  of  the  long 
trip  some  warm  friendships  sprung  up.  We  had  then  our 
first  acquaintance  with  Bostonians  as  well  as  with  Southern- 
ers. Of  course,  it  was  too  soon  for  Southern  women,  robbed 
of  home,  and  even  the  necessities  of  life,  by  the  cruelty  of 
war,  to  be  wholly  cordial.  We  were  more  and  more  amazed 
at  the  ignorance  in  the  South  concerning  the  North.  A 
young  girl,  otherwise  intelligent,  thawed  out  enough  to  con- 
fess to  me  that  she  had  really  no  idea  that  Yankee  soldiers 
were  like  their  own  physically.  She  imagined  they  would  be 
as  widely  different  as  black  from  white,  and  a  sort  of  combi- 
nation of  gorilla  and  chimpanzee.  Gunboats  had  but  a  short 
time  before  moored  at  the  levee  that  bounded  her  grand- 
mother's plantation,  and  the  negroes  ran  into  the  house  cry- 
ing the  terrible  news  of  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  The 
very  thought  of  a  Yankee  was  abhorrent;  but  the  girl,  more 
absorbed  with  curiosity  than  fear,  slipped  out  of  the  house  to 
where  a  view  of  the  walk  from  the  landing  was  to  be  had, 
and,  seeing  a  naval  officer  approaching,  raced  back  to  her 
grandmother,  crying  out  in  surprise  at  finding  a  being  like 
unto  her  own  people,  "  Why,  it's  a  man  !" 

As  we  approached  New  Orleans  the  plantations  grew  rich- 
er. The  palmetto  and  the  orange,  by  which  we  are  "  twice 
blessed  "  in  its  simultaneous  blossom  and  fruit;  the  oleander, 
treasured  in  conservatories  at  home,  here  growing  to  tree 
size  along  the  country  roads,  all  charmed  us.  The  wide  gal- 
leries around  the  two  stories  of  the  houses  were  a  delight. 
The  course  of  our  boat  was  often  near  enough  the  shore  for 
us  to  see  the  family  gathered  around  the  supper-table  spread 
on  the  upper  gallery,  which  was  protected  from  the  sun  by 
blinds  or  shades  of  matting. 

We  left  the  steamer  at  New  Orleans  with  regret.    It  seems, 


40  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

even  now,  that  it  is  rather  too  bad  we  have  grown  into  so 
hurried  a  race  that  we  cannot  spare  the  time  to  travel  as  lei- 
surely or  luxuriously  as  we  did  then.  Even  pleasure-seekers 
going  off  for  a  tour,  when  they  are  not  restricted  by  time  nor 
mode  of  journeying,  study  the  time-tables  closely,  to  see  by 
which  route  the  quickest  passage  can  be  made. 


CHAPTER  II. 

NEW  ORLEANS   AFTER  THE  WAR. 

WE  were  detained,  by  orders,  for  a  little  time  in  New  Or- 
leans, and  the  General  was  enthusiastic  over  the  city.  All 
day  we  strolled  through  the  streets,  visiting  the  French  quar- 
ter, contrasting  the  foreign  shopkeepers — who  were  never 
too  hurried  to  be  polite — with  our  brusque,  business-like 
Northern  clerk;  dined  in  the  charming  French  restaurants, 
where  we  saw  eating  made  a  fine  art.  The  sea-food  was  then 
new  to  me,  and  I  hovered  over  the  crabs,  lobsters  and  shrimps, 
but  remember  how  amused  the  General  was  by  my  quick 
retreat  from  a  huge  live  green  turtle,  whose  locomotion  was 
suspended  by  his  being  turned  upon  his  back.  He  was  un- 
consciously bearing  his  own  epitaph  fastened  upon  his  shell: 
"I  will  be  served  up  for  dinner  at  5  p.  M."  We  of  course 
spent  hours,  even  matutinal  hours,  at  the  market,  and  the 
General  drank  so  much  coffee  that  the  old  mammy  who 
served  him  said  many  a  "  Mon  Dieu  ! "  in  surprise  at  his 
capacity,  and  volubly  described  in  French  to  her  neighbors 
what  marvels  a  Yankee  man  could  do  in  coffee-sipping.  For 
years  after,  when  very  good  coffee  was  praised,  or  even  Eliza's 
strongly  commended,  his  ne  plus  ultra  was,  "  Almost  equal 
to  the  French  market. "  We  here  learned  what  artistic  effects 
could  be  produced  with  prosaic  carrots,  beets,  onions  and 
turnips.  The  General  looked  with  wonder  upon  the  leisure- 
ly Creole  grandee  who  came  to  order  his  own  dinner.  After 
his  epicurean  selection  he  showed  the  interest  and  skill  that 
a  Northern  man  might  in  the  buying  of  a  picture  or  a  horse, 
when  the  servant  bearing  the  basket  was  entrusted  with  what 

41 


42  TENTING  ON   THE   PLAINS. 

was  to  be  enjoyed  at  night.  We  had  never  known  men  that 
took  time  to  market,  except  as  our  hurried  Northern  fathers 
of  families  sometimes  made  sudden  raids  upon  the  butcher, 
on  the  way  to  business,  and  called  off  an  order  as  they  ran 
for  a  car. 

The  wide-terraced  Canal  Street,  with  its  throng  of  leisure- 
ly promenaders,  was  our  daily  resort.  The  stands  of  Parma 
violets  on  the  street  corners  perfumed  the  whole  block,  and 
the  war  seemed  not  even  to  have  cast  a  cloud  over  the  first 
foreign  pleasure-loving  people  we  had  seen.  The  General 
was  so  pleased  with  the  picturesque  costumes  of  the  servants 
that  Eliza  was  put  into  a  turban  at  his  entreaty.  In  vain  we 
tried  for  a  glimpse  of  the  Creole  beauties.  The  duenna  that 
guarded  them  in  their  rare  promenades,  as  they  glided  by, 
wearing  gracefully  the  lace  mantilla,  bonnetless,  and  chaded 
by  a  French  parasol,  whisked  the  pretty  things  out  of  sight, 
quick  as  we  were  to  discover  and  respectfully  follow  them. 
The  effects  of  General  Butler's  reign  were  still  visible  in  the 
marvelous  cleanliness  of  the  city.  We  drove  on  the  shell 
road,  spent  hours  in  the  horse -cars,  went  to  the  theatres,  and 
even  penetrated  the  rooms  of  the  most  exclusive  milliners, 
for  General  Custer  liked  the  shops  as  much  as  I  did.  Indeed, 
we  had  a  grand  play-day,  and  were  not  in  the  least  troubled 
at  our  detention. 

General  Scott  was  then  in  our  hotel,  about  to  set  out  for 
the  North.  He  remembered  Lieutenant  Custer,  who  had 
reported  to  him  in  1861,  and  was  the  bearer  of  despatches 
sent  by  him  to  the  front,  and  he  congratulated  my  husband 
on  his  career  in  terms  that,  coming  from  such  a  veteran, 
made  his  boy-heart  leap  for  joy.  General  Scott  was  then 
very  infirm,  and,  expressing  a  wish  to  see  me,  with  old-time 
gallantry  begged  my  husband  to  explain  to  me  that  he  would 
be  compelled  to  claim  the  privilege  of  sitting.  But  it  was  too 
much  for  his  etiquettical  instincts,  and,  weak  as  he  was,  he 
feebly  drew  his  tall  form  to  a  half-standing  position,  leaning 
against  the  lounge  as  I  entered.  Pictures  of  General  Scott, 
in  my  father's  home,  belonged  to  my  earliest  recollections. 


NEW   ORLEANS  AFTER   THE  WAR.  43 

He  was  a  colossal  figure  on  a  fiery  steed,  whose  prancing 
forefeet  never  touched  the  earth.  The  Mexican  War  had 
hung  a  halo  about  him,  and  my  childish  explanation  of  the 
clouds  of  dust  that  the  artist  sought  to  represent  was  the 
smoke  of  battle,  in  which  I  supposed  the  hero  lived  perpetu- 
ally. And  now  this  decrepit,  tottering  man  —I  was  almost 
sorry  to  have  seen  him  at  all,  except  for  the  praise  that  he  be- 
stowed upon  my  husband,  which,  coming  from  so  old  a  sol- 
dier, I  deeply  appreciated. 

General  Sheridan  had  assumed  command  of  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Government  had  hired  a 
beautiful  mansion  for  headquarters,  where  he  was  at  last  liv- 
ing handsomely  after  all  his  rough  campaigning.  When  we 
dined  with  him,  we  could  but  contrast  the  food  prepared 
over  a  Virginia  camp-fire,  with  the  dainty  French  cookery 
of  the  old  colored  Mary,  who  served  him  afterward  so  many 
years.  General  Custer  was,  of  course,  glad  to  be  under  his 
chief  again,  and  after  dinner,  while  I  was  given  over  to  some 
of  the  military  family  to  entertain,  the  two  men,  sitting  on 
the  wide  gallery,  talked  of  what  it  was  then  believed  would 
be  a  campaign  across  the  border.  I  was  left  in  complete  ig- 
norance, and  did  not  even  know  that  an  army  of  70,000  men 
was  being  organized  under  General  Sheridan's  masterly  hand. 
My  husband  read  the  Eastern  papers  to  me,  and  took  the 
liberty  of  reserving  such  articles  as  might  prove  incendiary  in 
his  family.  If  our  incorrigible  scamp  spoke  of  the  expected 
wealth  he  intended  to  acquire  from  the  sacking  of  palaces 
and  the  spoils  of  churches,  he  was  frowned  upon,  not  only 
because  the  General  tried  to  teach  him  that  there  were  some 
subjects  too  sacred  to  be  touched  by  his  irreverent  tongue, 
but  because  he  did  not  wish  my  anxieties  to  be  aroused  by 
the  prospect  of  another  campaign.  As  much  of  my  story 
must  be  of  the  hardships  my  husband  endured,  I  have  here 
lingered  a  little  over  the  holiday  that  our  journey  and  the  de- 
tention in  New  Orleans  gave  him.  I  hardly  think  any  one 
can  recall  a  complaint  of  his  in  those  fourteen  years  of  tent- 
life;  but  he  was  taught,  through  deprivations,  how  to  enjoy 


44  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAIN'S. 

every  moment  of  such  days  as  that  charming  journey  and 
city  experience  gave  us. 

The  steamer  chartered  to  take  troops  up  the  Red  River 
was  finally  ready,  and  we  sailed  the  last  week  in  June.  There 
were  horses  and  Government  freight  on  board.  The  captain 
was  well  named  Greathouse,  as  he  greeted  us  with  hospitality 
and  put  his  little  steamer  at  our  disposal.  Besides  the  fact 
that  this  contract  for  transportation  would  line  his  pockets 
well,  he  really  seemed  glad  to  have  us.  He  was  a  Yankee, 
and  gave  us  his  native  State  (Indiana)  in  copious  and  inex- 
haustible supplies,  as  his  contribution  to  the  talks  on  deck. 
Long  residence  in  the  South  had  not  dimmed  his  patriotism; 
and  in  the  rapid  transits  from  deck  to  pilot-house,  of  this  tall 
Hoosier,  I  almost  saw  the  straps  fastening  down  the  trousers 
of  Brother  Jonathan,  as  well  as  the  coat-tails  cut  from  the 
American  flag,  so  entirely  did  he  personate  in  his  figure  our 
emblematic  Uncle  Sam.  It  is  customary  for  the  Government 
to  defray  the  expenses  of  officers  and  soldiers  when  traveling 
under  orders;  but  so  much  red-tape  is  involved  that  they  often 
pay  their  own  way  at  the  time,  and  the  quartermaster  reim- 
burses them  at  the  journey's  end.  The  captain  knew  this, 
and  thought  he  would  give  himself  the  pleasure  of  having  us 
as  his  guests.  Accordingly,  he  took  the  General  one  side, 
and  imparted  this  very  pleasing  information.  Even  with  the 
provident  ones  this  would  be  a  relief;  while  we  had  come  on 
board  almost  wrecked  in  our  finances  by  the  theatre,  the 
tempting  flowers,  the  fascinating  restaurants,  and  finally,  a 
disastrous  lingering  one  day  in  the  beguiling  shop  of  Madam 
Olympe,  the  reigning  milliner.  The  General  had  bought 
some  folly  for  me,  in  spite  of  the  heroic  protest  that  I  made 
about  its  inappropriateness  for  Texas,  and  it  left  us  just 
enough  to  pay  for  our  food  on  our  journey,  provided  we  or- 
dered nothing  extra,  and  had  no  delays.  Captain  Great- 
house  little  knew  to  what  paupers  he  was  extending  his  hospi- 
tality. No  one  can  comprehend  how  carelessly  and  enjoyably 
army  people  can  walk  about  with  empty  pockets,  knowing 
that  it  is  but  a  matter  of  thirty  days'  waiting  till  Richard 


NEW   ORLEANS   AFTER   THE   WAR.  45 

shall  be  himself  again.  My  husband  made  haste  to  impart 
the  news  quietly  to  the  staff,  that  the  captain  was  going  to 
invite  them  all  to  be  his  guests,  and  so  relieve  their  anxiety 
about  financial  embarrassment.  The  scamp  saw  a  chance 
for  a  joke,  and  when  the  captain  again  appeared  he  knew 
that  he  was  going  to  receive  the  invitation,  and  anticipated 
it.  In  our  presence  he  jingled  the  last  twenty-six  cents  he 
had  in  the  world  against  the  knife  in  his  almost  empty  pock- 
ets, assumed  a  Crcesus-like  air,  and  begged  to  know  the  cost 
of  the  journey,  as  he  loftily  said  he  made  it  a  rule  always  to 
pay  in  advance.  At  this,  the  General,  unable  to  smother  his 
laughter,  precipitated  himself  out  of  the  cabin-door,  nearly 
over  the  narrow  guard,  to  avoid  having  his  merriment  seen. 
When  the  captain  said  blandly  that  he  was  about  to  invite 
our  party  to  partake  of  his  hospitality,  our  scamp  bowed,  and 
accepted  the  courtesy  as  if  it  were  condescension  on  his  part, 
and  proceeded  to  take  possession,  and  almost  command,  of 
the  steamer. 

It  was  a  curious  trip,  that  journey  up  the  Red  River.  We 
saw  the  dull  brownish-red  water  from  the  clay  bed  and  banks 
mingling  with  the  clearer  current  of  the  Mississippi  long  be- 
fore we  entered  the  mouth  of  the  Red  River.  We  had  a  de- 
lightful journey;  but  I  don't  know  why,  except  that  youth, 
health  and  buoyant  spirits  rise  superior  to  everything.  The 
river  was  ugliness  itself.  The  tree  trunks,  far  up,  were  gray 
and  slimy  with  the  late  freshet,  the  hanging  moss  adding  a 
dismal  feature  to  the  scene.  The  waters  still  covered  the 
low,  muddy  banks  strewn  with  fallen  trees  and  underbrush. 
The  river  was  very  narrow  in  places,  and  in  our  way  there 
were  precursors  of  the  Red  River  raft  above.  At  one  time, 
before  Government  work  was  begun,  the  raft  extended  forty- 
five  miles  beyond  Shreveport,  and  closed  the  channel  to 
steamers.  Sometimes  the  pilot  wound  us  round  just  such 
obstructions — logs  and  driftwood  jammed  in  so  firmly,  and 
so  immovable,  they  looked  like  solid  ground,  while  rank 
vegetation  sprung  up  through  the  thick  moss  that  covered 
the  decaying  tree  trunks.  The  river  was  very  crooked.  The 


46  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

whistle  screeched  when  approaching  a  turn;  but  so  sudden 
were  some  of  these,  that  a  steamer  coming  down,  not  slack- 
ening speed,  almost  ran  into  us  at  one  sharp  bend.  It  shaved 
our  sides  and  set  our  boat  a-quivering,  while  the  vitupera- 
tions of  the  boat's  crew,  and  the  loud,  angry  voices  of  the 
captain  and  pilot,  with  a  prompt  return  of  such  civilities 
from  the  other  steamer,  made  us  aware  that  emergencies 
brought  forth  a  special  and  extensive  set  of  invectives,  re- 
served for  careless  navigation  on  the  Red  River  of  the  South. 
We  grew  to  have  an  increasing  respect  for  the  skill  of  the 
pilot,  as  he  steered  us  around  sharp  turns,  across  low  water 
filled  with  branching  upturned  tree  trunks,  and  skillfully  took 
a  narrow  path  between  the  shore  and  a  snag  that  menacingly 
ran  its  black  point  out  of  the  water.  A  steamer  in  advance 
of  us,  carrying  troops,  had  encountered  a  snag,  while  going 
at  great  speed,  and  the  obstructing  tree  ran  entirely  through 
the  boat,  coming  out  at  the  pilot-house.  The  troops  were 
unloaded  and  taken  up  afterward  by  another  steamer.  Some- 
times the  roots  of  great  forest  trees,  swept  down  by  a  freshet, 
become  imbedded  in  the  river,  and  the  whole  length  of  the 
trunk  is  under  water,  swaying  up  and  down,  but  not  visible 
below  the  turbid  surface.  The  forest  is  dense  at  some  points, 
and  we  could  see  but  a  short  distance  as  we  made  our  cir- 
cuitous, dangerous  way. 

The  sand-bars,  and  the  soft  red  clay  of  the  river-banks, 
Were  a  fitting  home  for  the  alligators  that  lay  sunning  them- 
selves, or  sluggishly  crawled  into  the  stream  as  the  General 
aimed  at  them  with  his  rifle  from  the  steamer's  guards. 
They  were  new  game,  and  gave  some  fresh  excitement  to  the 
long,  idle  days.  He  never  gave  up  trying,  in  his  determined 
way,  for  the  vulnerable  spot  in  their  hide  just  behind  the  eye. 
I  thought  the  sand-hill  crane  must  have  first  acquired  its 
tiresome  habit  of  standing  on  one  leg,  from  its  disgust  at 
letting  down  the  reserve  foot  into  such  thick,  noisome  water. 
It  seemed  a  pity  that  some  of  those  shots  from  the  steamer's 
deck  had  not  ended  its  melancholy  existence.  Through  all 
this  mournful  river-way  the  guitar  twanged,  and  the  dense 


NEW    ORLEANS   AFTER   THE   WAR.  4/ 

forest  resounded  to  war  choruses  or  old  college  glees  that 
we  sent  out  in  happy  notes  as  we  sat  on  deck.  I  believe 
Captain  Greathouse  bade  us  good-by  with  regret,  as  he 
seemed  to  enjoy  the  jolly  party,  and  when  we  landed  at 
Alexandria  he  gave  us  a  hogshead  of  ice,  the  last  we  were  to 
see  for  a  year. 

A  house  abandoned  by  its  owners,  and  used  by  General 
Banks  for  headquarters  during  the  war,  was  selected  for  our 
temporary  home.  As  we  stepped  upon  the  levee,  a  tall 
Southerner  came  toward  me  and  extended  his  hand.  At 
that  time  the  citizens  were  not  wont  to  welcome  the  Yankee 
in  that  manner.  He  had  to  tell  me  who  he  was,  as  unfor- 
tunately I  had  forgotten,  and  I  began  to  realize  the  truth  of 
the  saying,  that  "there  are  but  two  hundred  and  fifty  people 
in  the  world,"  when  I  found  an  acquaintance  in  this  isolated 
town.  He  proved  to  be  the  only  Southerner  I  had  ever 
known  in  my  native  town  in  Michigan,  who  came  there  when 
a  lad  to  visit  kinsfolk.  In  those  days  his  long  black  hair, 
large  dark  eyes  and  languishing  manner,  added  to  the  smooth, 
soft-flowing,  flattering  speeches,  made  sad  havoc  in  our 
school-girl  ranks.  I  suppose  the  youthful  and  probably  sus- 
ceptible hearts  of  our  circle  were  all  set  fluttering,  for  the  boy 
seemed  to  find  pleasure  in  a  chat  with  any  one  of  us  that  fell 
to  him  in  our  walks  to  and  from  school.  The  captivating 
part  of  it  all  was  the  lines  written  on  the  pages  of  my  arith- 
metic, otherwise  so  odious  to  me — "Come  with  me  to  my 
distant  home,  where,  under  soft  Southern  skies,  we'll  breathe 
the  odor  of  orange  groves."  None  of  us  had  answered  to 
his  "Come,"  possibly  because  of  the  infantile  state  of  our 
existence,  possibly  because  the  invitation  was  too  general. 
And  here  stood  our  youthful  hero,  worn  prematurely  old  and 
shabby  after  his  four  years  of  fighting  for  "  the  cause."  The 
boasted  "  halls  of  his  ancestors,"  the  same  to  which  we  had 
been  so  ardently  invited,  were  a  plain  white  cottage.  No 
orange  groves,  but  a  few  lime-trees  sparsely  scattered  over 
the  prescribed  lawn.  In  the  pleasant  visit  that  we  all  had, 
there  was  discreet  avoidance  of  the  poetic  license  he  had 


48  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

taken  in  early  years,  when  describing  his  home  under  the 
southern  sky. 

Alexandria  had  been  partly  burned  during  the  war,  and 
was  built  up  mostly  with  one-story  cottages.  Indeed,  it  was 
always  the  popular  mode  of  building  there.  We  found 
everything  a  hundred  years  behind  the  times.  The  houses  of 
our  mechanics  at  home  had  more  conveniences  and  modern 
improvements.  I  suppose  the  retinue  of  servants  before  the 
war  rendered  the  inhabitants  indifferent  to  what  we  think 
absolutely  necessary  for  comfort.  The  house  we  used  as 
headquarters  had  large,  lofty  rooms  separated  by  a  wide  hall, 
while  in  addition  there  were  two  wings.  A  family  occupied 
one-half  of  the  house,  caring  for  it  in  the  absence  of  the 
owners.  In  the  six  weeks  we  were  there,  we  never  saw  them, 
and  naturally  concluded  they  were  not  filled  with  joy  at  our 
presence.  The  house  was  delightfully  airy;  but  we  took  up 
the  Southern  custom  of  living  on  the  gallery.  The  library 
was  still  intact,  in  spite  of  its  having  been  headquarters  for 
our  army;  and  evidently  the  people  had  lived  in  what  was 
considered  luxury  for  the  South  in  its  former  days,  yet  every- 
thing was  primitive  enough.  This  great  house,  filled  as  it 
once  was  with  servants,  had  its  sole  water  supply  from  two 
tanks  or  cisterns  above  ground  at  the  rear.  The  rich  and 
the  poor  were  alike  dependent  upon  these  receptacles  for 
water;  and  it  was  not  a  result  of  the  war,  for  this  was  the 
only  kind  of  reservoir  provided,  even  in  prosperous  times. 
But  one  well  was  dug  in  Alexandria,  as  the  water  was  brack- 
ish and  impure.  Each  house,  no  matter  how  small,  had  cis- 
terns, sometimes  as  high  as  the  smaller  cottages  themselves. 
The  water  in  those  where  we  lived  was  very  low,  the  tops 
were  uncovered,  and  dust,  leaves,  bugs  and  flies  were  blown 
in,  while  the  cats  strolled  around  the  upper  rim  during  their 
midnight  orchestral  overtures.  We  found  it  necessary  to 
husband  the  fast  lowering  water,  as  the  rains  were  over  for  the 
summer.  The  servants  were  enjoined  to  draw  out  the  home- 
made plug  (there  was  not  even  a  Yankee  faucet)  with  the  ut- 
most care,  while  some  one  was  to  keep  vigilant  watch  on  a 


NEW   ORLEANS   AFTER    THE    WAR.  49 

cow,  very  advanced  in  cunning,  that  used  to  come  and  hook 
at  the  plug  till  it  was  loosened  and  fell  out.  The  sound  of 
flowing  water  was  our  first  warning  of  the  precious  wasting. 
No  one  could  drink  the  river-water,  and  even  in  our  ablutions 
we  turned  our  eyes  away  as  we  poured  the  water  from  the 
pitcher  into  the  bowl.  Our  rain-water  was  so  full  of  gallinip- 
pers  and  pollywogs,  that  a  glass  stood  by  the  plate  untouched 
until  the  sediment  and  natural  history  united  at  the  bottom, 
while  heaven  knows  what  a  microscope,  had  we  possessed 
one,  would  have  revealed ! 

Eliza  was  well  primed  with  stories  of  alligators  by  the 
negroes  and  soldiers,  who  loved  to  frighten  her.  One  meas- 
uring thirteen  feet  eight  inches  was  killed  on  the  river-bank, 
they  said,  as  he  was  about  to  partake  of  his  favorite  supper, 
a  negro  sleeping  on  the  sand.  It  was  enough  for  Eliza  when 
she  heard  of  this  preference  for  those  of  her  color,  and  she 
duly  stampeded.  She  was  not  well  up  in  the  habits  of  ani- 
mals, and  having  seen  the  alligators  crawling  over  the  mud 
of  the  river  banks,  she  believed  they  were  so  constituted  that 
at  night  they  could  take  long  tramps  over  the  country.  She 
used  to  assure  me  that  she  nightly  heard  them  crawling 
around  the  house.  One  night,  when  some  fearful  sounds 
issued  from  the  cavernous  depths  of  the  old  cistern,  she  ran 
to  one  of  the  old  negroes  of  the  place,  her  carefully  braided 
wool  rising  from  her  head  in  consternation,  and  called  out, 
"  Jest  listen!  jest  listen!  "  The  old  mammy  quieted  her  by, 
"Oh  la,  honey,  don't  you  be  skeart;  nothin's  goin'  to  hurt 
you;  them's  only  bull-toads."  This  information,  though  it 
quieted  Eliza's  fears,  did  not  make  the  cistern-water  any  more 
enjoyable  to  us. 

The  houses  along  Red  River  were  raised  from  the  ground  on 
piles,  as  the  soil  was  too  soft  and  porous  for  cellars.  Before 
the  fences  were  destroyed  and  the  place  fell  into  dilapidation, 
there  might  have  been  a  lattice  around  the  base  of  the  build- 
ing, but  now  it  was  gone.  Though  this  open  space  under 
the  house  gave  vent  for  what  air  was  stirring,  it  also  offered 
free  circulation  to  pigs,  that  ran  grunting  and  squealing  back 


50  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

and  forth,  and  even  the  calves  sought  its  grateful  shelter  from 
the  sun  and  flies.  And,  oh,  the  mosquitoes!  Others  have 
exhausted  adjectives  in  trying  to  describe  them,  and  until  I 
came  to  know  those  of  the  Missouri  River  at  Fort  Lincoln, 
Dakota,  I  joined  in  the  general  testimony,  that  the  Red 
River  of  the  South  could  not  be  outdone.  The  bayous  about 
us,  filled  with  decaying  vegetable  matter,  and  surrounded 
with  marshy  ground,  and  the  frequent  rapid  fall  of  the  river, 
leaving  banks  of  mud,  all  bred  mosquitoes,  or  gallinippers,  as 
the  darkies  called  them.  Eliza  took  counsel  as  to  the  best 
mode  of  extermination,  and  brought  old  kettles  with  raw  cot- 
ton into  our  room,  from  which  proceeded  such  smudges  and 
such  odors  as  would  soon  have  wilted  a  Northern  mosquito; 
but  it  only  resulted  in  making  us  feel  like  a  piece  of  dried 
meat  hanging  in  a  smoke-house,  while  the  undisturbed  insect 
winged  its  way  about  our  heads,  singing  as  it  swirled  and 
dipped  and  plunged  its  javelin  into  our  defenseless  flesh. 
There  were  days  there,  as  at  Fort  Lincoln,  when  the  wind, 
blowing  in  a  certain  direction,  brought  such  myriads  of  them 
that  I  was  obliged  to  beat  a  retreat  under  the  netting  that 
enveloped  the  high,  broad  bed,  which  is  a  specialty  of  the 
extreme  South,  and  with  my  book,  writing  or  sewing,  listened 
triumphantly  to  the  clamoring  army  beating  on  the  outside 
of  the  bars.  The  General  made  fun  of  me  thus  enthroned, 
when  he  returned  from  office  work;  but  I  used  to  reply  that 
he  could  afford  to  remain  unprotected,  if  the  greedy  creatures 
could  draw  their  sustenance  from  his  veins  without  leaving  a 
sting. 

At  the  rear  of  our  house  were  two  rows  of  negro  quarters, 
which  Eliza  soon  penetrated,  and  afterward  begged  me  to 
visit.  Only  the  very  old  and  worthless  servants  remained. 
The  owners  of  the  place  on  which  we  were  living  had  three 
other  sugar  plantations  in  the  valley,  from  one  of  which  alone 
2, 300  hogsheads  of  sugar  were  shipped  in  one  season,  and  at 
the  approach  of  the  army  500  able-bodied  negroes  were  sent 
into  Texas.  Eliza  described  the  decamping  of  the  owner  of 
the  plantation  thus,  "Oh,  Miss  Libbie,  the  war  made  a 


NEW   ORLEANS   AFTER   THE   WAR.  5 1 

mighty  scatter."  The  poor  creatures  left  were  in  desperate 
straits.  One,  a  bed-ridden  woman,  having  been  a  house- 
servant,  was  intelligent  for  one  of  her  race.  After  Eliza  had 
taken  me  the  rounds,  I  piloted  the  General,  and  he  found 
that,  though  the  very  old  woman  did  not  know  her  exact  age, 
she  could  tell  him  of  events  that  she  remembered  when  she 
was  in  New  Orleans  with  her  mistress,  which  enabled  him  to 
calculate  her  years  to  be  almost  a  hundred.  Three  old  peo- 
ple claimed  to  remember  "  Washington's  war."  I  look  back 
to  our  visit  to  her  little  cabin,  where  we  sat  beside  her  bed, 
as  one  of  vivid  interest.  The  old  woman  knew  little  of  the 
war,  and  no  one  had  told  her  of  the  proclamation  until  our 
arrival.  We  were  both  much  moved  when,  after  asking  us 
questions,  she  said  to  me,  "  And,  Missey,  is  it  really  true  that 
I  is  free?"  Then  she  raised  her  eyes  to  heaven,  and  blessed 
the  Lord  for  letting  her  live  to  see  the  day.  The  General, 
who  had  to  expostulate  with  Eliza  sometimes  for  her  habit 
of  feeding  every  one  out  of  our  supplies,  whether  needy  or 
not,  had  no  word  to  say  now.  Our  kitchen  could  be  full  of 
grizzly,  tottering  old  wrecks,  and  he  only  smiled  on  the  gen- 
erous dispenser  of  her  master's  substance.  Indeed,  he  had 
them  fed  all  the  time  we  stayed  there,  and  they  dragged  their 
tattered  caps  from  their  old  heads,  and  blessed  him  as  we 
left,  for  what  he  had  done,  and  for  the  food  that  he  provided 
for  them  after  we  were  gone. 

It  was  at  Alexandria  that  I  first  visited  a  negro  prayer-meet- 
ing. As  we  sat  on  the  gallery  one  evening,  we  heard  the 
shouting  and  singing,  and  quietly  crept  round  to  the  cabin 
where  the  exhorting  and  groaning  were  going  on.  My  hus- 
band stood  with  uncovered  head,  reverencing  their  sincerity, 
and  not  a  muscle  of  his  face  moved,  though  it  was  rather 
difficult  to  keep  back  a  smile  at  the  grotesqueness  of  the 
scene.  The  language  and  the  absorbed  manner  in  which 
these  old  slaves  held  communion  with  their  Lord,  as  if  He 
were  there  in  person,  and  told  Him  in  simple  but  powerful 
language  their  thanks  that  the  day  of  Jubilee  had  come,  that 
their  lives  had  been  spared  to  see  freedom  come  to  His  peo- 


52  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

pie,  made  us  sure  that  a  faith  that  brought  their  Saviour 
down  in  their  midst  was  superior  to  that  of  the  more  civilized, 
who  send  petitions  to  a  throne  that  they  themselves  surround 
with  clouds  of  doctrine  and  doubt.  Though  they  were  so 
poor  and  helpless,  and  seemingly  without  anything  to  inspire 
gratitude,  evidently  there  were  reasons  in  their  own  minds 
for  heartfelt  thanks,  as  there  was  no  mistaking  the  genuine- 
ness of  feeling  when  they  sang: 

"  Bless  the  Lord  that  I  can  rise  and  tell 
That  Jesus  has  done  all  things  well." 

Old  as  some  of  these  people  were,  their  religion  took  a 
very  energetic  form.  They  swayed  back  and  forth  as  they 
sat  about  the  dimly  lighted  cabin,  clapped  their  hands  spas- 
modically, and  raised  their  eyes  to  heaven  in  moments  of 
absorption.  There  were  those  among  the  younger  people 
who  jumped  up  and  down  as  the  "  power"  possessed  them, 
and  the  very  feeblest  uttered  groans,  and  quavered  out  the 
chorus  of  the  old  tunes,  in  place  of  the  more  active  demon- 
strations for  which  their  rheumatic  old  limbs  now  unfitted 
them.  When,  afterward,  my  husband  read  to  me  newspaper 
accounts  of  negro  camp-meetings  or  prayer-meetings  graph- 
ically written,  no  description  seemed  exaggerated  to  us  ;  and 
he  used  to  say  that  nothing  compared  with  that  night  when 
we  first  listened  to  those  serious,  earnest  old  centenarians, 
whose  feeble  voices  still  quavered  out  a  tune  of  gratitude,  as, 
with  bent  forms  and  bowed  heads,  they  stood  leaning  on 
their  canes  and  crutches. 

As  the  heat  became  more  overpowering,  I  began  to  make 
excuses  for  the  slip-shod  manner  of  living  of  the  Red  River 
people.  Active  as  was  my  temperament,  climatic  influences 
told,  and  I  felt  that  I  should  have  merited  the  denunciation 
of  the  antique  woman  in  "  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  of  "  Heow 
shiftless  ! "  It  was  hard  to  move  about  in  the  heat  of  the 
day,  but  at  evening  we  all  went  for  a  ride.  It  seemed  to  me 
a  land  of  enchantment.  We  had  never  known  such  luxuri- 
ance of  vegetation.  The  valley  of  the  river  extended  several 


NEW   ORLEANS   AFTER  THE  WAR.  53 

miles  inland,  the  foliage  was  varied  and  abundant,  and  the 
sunsets  had  deeper,  richer  colors  than  any  at  the  North. 
The  General,  getting  such  constant  pleasure  out  of  nature, 
and  not  in  the  least  minding  to  express  it,  was  glad  to  hear 
even  the  prosaic  one  of  our  number,  who  rarely  cared  for  ^ 
color  or  scenery,  go  into  raptures  over  the  gorgeous  orange 
and  red  of  that  Southern  sky.  We  sometimes  rode  for  miles 
along  the  country  roads,  between  hedges  of  osage -orange  on 
one  side,  and  a  double  white  rose  on  the  other,  growing  fif- 
teen feet  high.  The  dew  enhanced  the  fragrance,  and  a 
lavish  profusion  was  displayed  by  nature  in  that  valley,  which 
was  a  constant  delight  to  us.  Sometimes  my  husband  and  I 
remained  out  very  late,  loth  to  come  back  to  the  prosy,  un- 
interesting town,  with  its  streets  flecked  with  bits  of  cotton, 
evidences  of  the  traffic  of  the  world,  as  the  levee  was  now 
piled  up  with  bales  ready  for  shipment.  Once  the  staff  crossed 
with  us  to  the  other  side  of  the  river,  and  rode  out  through 
more  beautiful  country  roads,  to  what  was  still  called  Sherman 
Institute.  General  Sherman  had  been  at  the  head  of  this 
military  school  before  the  war,  but  it  was  subsequently  con- 
verted into  a  hospital.  It  was  in  a  lonely  and  deserted  dis- 
trict, and  the  great  empty  stone  building,  with  its  turreted 
corners  and  modern  architecture,  seemed  utterly  incongru- 
ous in  the  wild  pine  forest  that  surrounded  it.  We  returned 
to  the  river,  and  visited  two  forts  on  the  bank  opposite  Alex- 
andria. They  were  built  by  a  Confederate  officer  who  used 
his  Federal  prisoners  for  workmen.  The  General  took  in  at 
once  the  admirable  situation  selected,  which  commanded  the 
river  for  many  miles.  He  thoroughly  appreciated,  and  en- 
deavored carefully  to  explain  to  me,  how  cleverly  the  few 
materials  at  the  disposal  of  the  impoverished  South  had  been 
utilized.  The  moat  about  the  forts  was  the  deepest  our 
officers  had  ever  seen.  Closely  as  my  husband  studied  the 
plan  and  formation,  he  said  it  would  have  added  greatly  to 
his  appreciation,  had  he  then  known,  what  he  afterward 
learned,  that  the  Confederate  engineer  who  planned  this  ad- 
mirable fortification  was  one  of  his  classmates  at  West  Point, 


54  TENTING  ON   THE  PLAINS. 

of  whom  he  was  very  fond.  In  1864  an  immense  expedition 
of  our  forces  was  sent  up  the  Red  River,  to  capture  Shreve- 
port  and  open  up  the  great  cotton  districts  of  Texas.  It  was 
unsuccessful,  and  the  retreat  was  rendered  impossible  by  low 
water,  while  much  damage  was  done  to  our  fleet  by  the  very 
Confederate  forts  we  were  now  visiting.  A  dam  was  con- 
structed near  Alexandria,  and  the  squadron  was  saved  from 
capture  or  annihilation  by  this  timely  conception  of  a  quick- 
witted Western  man,  Colonel  Joseph  Bailey.  The  dam  was 
visible  from  the  walls  of  the  forts,  where  we  climbed  for  a 
view. 

As  we  resumed  our  ride  to  the  steamer,  the  General,  who 
was  usually  an  admirable  pathfinder,  proposed  a  new  and 
shorter  road  ;  and  liking  variety  too  much  to  wish  to  travel 
the  same  country  twice  over,  all  gladly  assented.  Everything 
went  very  well  for  a  time.  We  were  absorbed  in  talking, 
noting  new  scenes  on  the  route,  or,  as  was  our  custom  when 
riding  off  from  the  public  highway,  we  sang  some  chorus  ; 
and  thus  laughing,  singing,  joking,  we  galloped  over  the 
ground  thoughtlessly  into  the  very  midst  of  serious  danger. 
Apparently,  nothing  before  us  impeded  our  way.  We  knew 
very  little  of  the  nature  of  the  soil  in  that  country,  but  had 
become  somewhat  accustomed  to  the  bayous  that  either 
start  from  the  river  or  appear  suddenly  inland,  quite  discon- 
nected from  any  stream.  On  that  day  we  dashed  heedlessly 
to  the  bank  of  a  wide  bayou  that  poured  its  waters  into  the 
Red  River.  Instead  of  thinking  twice,  and  taking  the  pre- 
caution to  follow  its  course  farther  up  into  the  country,  where 
the  mud  was  dryer  and  the  space  to  cross  much  narrower, 
we  determined  not  to  delay,  and  prepared  to  go  over.  The 
most  venturesome  dashed  first  on  to  this  bit  of  dried  slough, 
and  though  the  crust  swayed  and  sunk  under  the  horses'  fly- 
ing feet,  it  still  seemed  caked  hard  enough  to  bear  every 
weight.  There  were  seams  and  fissures  in  portions  of  the 
bayou,  through  which  the  moist  mud  oozed  ;  but  these  were 
not  sufficient  warning  to  impetuous  people.  Another  and 
another  sprang  over  the  undulating  soil.  Having  reached 


NEW  ORLEANS  AFTER   THE   WAR.  55 

the  other  side,  they  rode  up  and  down  the  opposite  bank, 
shouting  to  us  where  they  thought  it  the  safest  to  cross,  and 
of  course  interlarded  their  directions  with  good-natured 
scoffing  about  hesitation,  timidity,  and  so  on.  The  General, 
never  second  in  anything  when  he  could  help  it,  remained 
behind  to  fortify  my  sinking  heart  and  urge  me  to  under- 
take the  crossing  with  him.  He  reminded  me  how  carefully 
Custis  Lee  had  learned  to  follow  and  to  trust  to  him,  and  he 
would  doubtless  plant  his  hoofs  in  the  very  tracks  of  his  own 
horse.  Another  of  our  party  tried  to  bolster  up  my  courage, 
assuring  me  that  if  the  heavy  one  among  us  was  safely  on 
the  other  bank,  my  light  weight  might  be  trusted.  I  dreaded 
making  the  party  wait  until  we  had  gone  further  up  the 
bayou,  and  might  have  mustered  up  the  required  pluck  had 
I  not  met  with  trepidation  on  the  part  of  my  horse.  His  fine, 
delicate  ears  told  me,  as  plainly  as  if  he  could  speak,  that  I 
was  asking  a  great  deal  of  him.  We  had  encountered  quick- 
sands together  in  the  bed  of  a  Virginia  stream,  and  both 
horse  and  rider  were  recalling  the  fearful  sensation  when  the 
animal's  hindlegs  sank,  leaving  his  body  engulfed  in  the  soil. 
With  powerful  struggles  with  his  forefeet  and  muscular 
shoulders,  we  plunged  to  the  right  and  left,  and  found  at  last 
firm  soil  on  which  to  escape.  With  such  a  recollection  still 
fresh,  as  memory  is  sure  to  retain  terrors  like  that,  it  was 
hardly  a  wonder  that  we  shrank  from  the  next  step.  His 
trembling  flanks  shook  as  much  as  the  unsteady  hand  that 
held  his  bridle.  He  quivered  from  head  to  foot,  and  held 
back.  I  urged ,  and  patted  his  neck,  while  we  both  continued  to 
shiver  on  the  brink.  The  General  laughed  at  the  two  cow- 
ards we  really  were,  but  still  gave  us  time  to  get  our  courage 
up  to  the  mark.  The  officer  remaining  with  us  continued  to 
encourage  me  with  assurances  that  there  was  "  not  an  atom 
of  danger,"  and  finally,  with  a  bound,  shouting  out,  "  Look 
how  well  I  shall  go  over  ! "  sprang  upon  the  vibrating  crust. 
In  an  instant,  with  a  crack  like  a  pistol,  the  thin  layer  of 
solid  mud  broke,  and  down  went  the  gay,  handsomely  ca- 
parisoned fellow,  engulfed  to  his  waist  in  the  foul  black  crust. 


56  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

There  was  at  once  a  commotion.  With  no  ropes,  it  was  hard 
to  effect  his  release.  His  horse  helped  him  most,  struggling 
frantically  for  the  bank,  while  the  officers,  having  flung  them- 
selves off  from  their  animals  to  rush  to  his  rescue,  brought 
poles  and  tree  branches,  which  the  imbedded  man  was  not 
slow  to  grasp  and  drag  himself  from  the  perilous  spot  when 
only  superhuman  strength  could  deliver  him,  as  the  mud  of 
a  bayou  sucks  under  its  surface  with  great  rapidity  anything 
with  which  it  comes  in  contact.  As  soon  as  the  officer  was 
dragged  safely  on  to  firm  earth,  a  shout  went  up  that  rent 
the  air  with  its  merriment.  Scarcely  any  one  spoke  while 
they  labored  to  save  the  man's  life,  but  once  he  was  out  of 
peril,  the  rescuers  felt  their  hour  had  come.  They  called 
out  to  him,  in  tones  of  derision,  the  vaunting  air  with  which 
he  said  just  before  his  engulf ment,  "  Look  at  me  ;  see  how  I 
go  over  ! "  He  was  indeed  a  sorry  sight,  plastered  from  head 
to  foot  with  black  mud.  Frightened  as  I  was — for  the 
trembling  had  advanced  to  shivering,  and  my  chattering  teeth 
and  breathless  voice  were  past  my  control — I  still  felt  that 
little  internal  tremor  of  laughter  that  somehow  pervades  one 
who  has  a  sense  of  the  ludicrous  in  very  dangerous  surround- 
ings. 

I  had  certainly  made  a  very  narrow  escape,  for  it  would 
have  been  doubly  hard  to  extricate  me.  The  riding  habits 
in  those  days  were  very  long,  and  loaded  so  with  lead  to 
keep  them  down  in  high  winds — and,  I  may  add,  in  furious 
riding — that  it  was  about  all  I  could  do  to  lift  my  skirt  when 
I  put  it  on. 

I  held  my  horse  with  a  snaffle,  to  get  good,  smooth  going 
out  of  him,  and  my  wrists  became  pretty  strong;  but  in  that 
slough  I  would  have  found  them  of  little  avail,  I  fear.  There 
remained  no  opposition  to  seeking  a  narrower  part  of  the 
bayou,  above  where  I  had  made  such  an  escape,  and  there 
was  still  another  good  result  of  this  severe  lesson  after  that: 
when  we  came  to  such  ominous-looking  soil,  Custis  Lee  and 
his  mistress  were  allowed  all  the  shivering  on  the  brink  that 
their  cowardice  produced,  while  the  party  scattered  to  in- 


NEW  ORLEANS  AFTER   THE   WAR.  57 

vestigate  the  sort  of  foundation  we  were  likely  to  find,  before 
we  attempted  to  plunge  over  a  Louisiana  quagmire. 

The  bayous  were  a  strange  feature  of  that  country.  Often 
without  inlet  or  outlet,  a  strip  of  water  appeared,  black  and 
sluggish,  filled  with  logs,  snags,  masses  of  underbrush  and 
leaves.  The  banks,  covered  with  weeds,  noisome  plants  and 
rank  tangled  vegetation,  seemed  the  dankest,  darkest,  most 
weird  and  mournful  spots  imaginable,  a  fit  home  for  ghouls 
and  bogies.  There  could  be  no  more  appropriate  place  for  a 
sensational  novelist  to  locate  a  murder.  After  a  time  I  be- 
came accustomed  to  these  frequently  occurring  water-ways, 
but  it  took  me  a  good  while  to  enjoy  going  fishing  on  them. 
The  men  were  glad  to  vary  their  days  by  dropping  a  line  in 
that  vile  water,  and  I  could  not  escape  their  urging  to  go, 
though  I  was  excused  from  fishing. 

On  one  occasion  we  went  down  the  river  on  a  steamer,  the 
sailors  dragging  the  small  boats  over  the  strip  of  land  be- 
tween the  river  and  the  bayou,  and  all  went  fishing  or  hunt- 
ing. This  excursion  was  one  that  I  am  likely  to  remember 
forever.  The  officers,  intent  on  their  fishing,  were  rowed 
slowly  through  the  thick  water,  while  I  was  wondering  to 
myself  if  there  could  be,  anywhere,  such  a  wild  jungle  of  vines 
and  moss  as  hung  from  the  trees  and  entangled  itself  in  the 
mass  of  weeds  and  water-plants  below.  We  followed  little 
indentations  of  the  stream,  and  the  boat  was  rowed  into 
small  bays  and  near  dark  pools,  where  the  fish  are  known  to 
stay,  and  finally  we  floated.  The  very  limbs  of  the  trees  and 
the  gnarled  trunks  took  on  human  shape,  while  the  droop- 
ing moss  swayed  as  if  it  might  be  the  drapery  of  a  lamia, 
evolved  out  of  the  noisome  vapors  and  floating  above  us. 
These  fears  and  imaginings,  which  would  have  been  put  to 
flight  by  the  assurances  of  the  General,  had  he  not  been  so 
intent  on  his  line,  proved  to  be  not  wholly  spectres  of  the 
imagination.  A  mass  of  logs  in  front  of  us  seemed  to  move. 
They  did  move,  and  the  alligator,  that  looked  so  like  a  tree- 
trunk,  established  his  identity  by  separating  himself  from  the 
floating  timber  and  making  off.  It  was  my  scream,  for  the 


58  TENTING  ON  THE   PLAINS. 

officers  themselves  did  not  enjoy  the  proximity  of  the  beast, 
that  caused  the  instant  use  of  the  oars  and  a  quick  retreat. 

I  went  fishing  after  that,  of  course;  I  couldn't  get  out  of 
it;  indeed  I  was  supported  through  my  tremors  by  a  pleasure 
to  which  a  woman  cannot  be  indifferent — that  of  being  want- 
ed on  all  sorts  of  excursions.  But  logs  in  the  water  never 
looked  like  logs  after  that;  to  my  distended  vision  they  ap- 
peared to  writhe  with  the  slow  contortions  of  loathsome  ani- 
mals. 

A  soldier  captured  a  baby-alligator  one  day,  and  the  Gen- 
eral, thinking  to  quiet  my  terror  of  them  by  letting  me  see 
the  reptile  "close  to,"  as  the  children  say,  took  me  down  to 
camp,  where  the  delighted  soldier  told  me  how  he  had 
caught  it,  holding  on  to  the  tail,  which  is  its  weapon.  The 
animal  was  all  head  and  tail;  there  seemed  to  be  no  inter- 
mediate anatomy.  He  flung  the  latter  member  at  a  hat  in  so 
vicious  and  violent  a  way,  that  I  believed  instantly  the  story, 
which  I  had  first  received  with  doubt,  of  his  rapping  over  a 
puppy  and  swallowing  him  before  rescue  could  come.  This 
pet  was  in  a  long  tank  of  water  the  owner  had  built,  and  it 
gave  the  soldiers  much  amusement. 

The  General  was  greatly  interested  in  alligator-hunting. 
It  was  said  that  the  scales  were  as  thick  as  a  china  plate,  ex- 
cept on  the  head,  and  he  began  to  believe  so  when  he  found 
his  balls  glancing  off  the  impenetrable  hide  as  if  from  the 
side  of  an  ironclad.  I  suppose  it  was  very  exciting,  after 
the  officers  had  yelped  and  barked  like  a  dog,  to  see  the 
great  monster  decoyed  from  some  dark  retreat  by  the  sound 
of  his  favorite  tidbit.  The  wary  game  came  slowly  down  the 
bayou,  under  fire  of  the  kneeling  huntsmen  concealed  in  the 
underbrush,  and  was  soon  despatched.  For  myself,  I  should 
have  preferred,  had  I  been  consulted,  a  post  of  observation 
in  the  top  of  some  tree,  instead  of  the  boat  in  which  I  was 
being  rowed. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A  MILITARY   EXECUTION. 

THERE  was  a  great  deal  to  do  in  those  weeks  of  our  de- 
tention at  Alexandria,  during  the  working  hours  of  the  day, 
in  organizing  the  division  of  cavalry  for  the  march.  Troops 
that  had  been  serving  in  the  West  during  the  war  were  brought 
together  at  that  point  from  all  directions,  and  an  effort  was 
made  to  form  them  into  a  disciplined  body.  This  herculean 
task  gave  my  husband  great  perplexity.  He  wrote  to  my 
father  that  he  did  not  entirely  blame  the  men  for  the  restless- 
ness and  insubordination  they  exhibited,  as  their  comrades, 
who  had  enlisted  only  for  the  war,  had  gone  home,  and,  of 
course,  wrote  back  letters  to  their  friends  of  the  pleasures  of 
reunion  with  their  families  and  kindred,  and  the  welcome 
given  them  by  their  townspeople.  The  troops  with  us  had 
not  served  out  the  time  of  their  enlistment,  and  the  Govern- 
ment, according  to  the  strict  letter  of  the  law,  had  a  right  to 
the  unexpired  time  for  which  the  men  were  pledged.  Some 
of  the  regiments  had  not  known  the  smell  of  gunpowder  dur- 
ing the  entire  war,  having  been  stationed  in  and  near  South- 
ern cities,  and  that  duty  is  generally  demoralizing.  In  the 
reorganizing  of  this  material,  every  order  issued  was  met  with 
growls  and  grumbling.  It  seemed  that  it  had  been  the  cus- 
tom with  some  of  their  officers  to  issue  an  order,  and  then  go 
out  and  make  a  speech,  explaining  the  whys  and  wherefores. 
One  of  the  colonels  came  to  the  General  one  day  at  his  own 
quarters,  thinking  it  a  better  place  than  the  office  to  make 
his  request.  He  was  a  spectacle,  and  though  General  Custer 
was  never  in  after  years  incautious  enough  to  mention  his 
name,  he  could  not,  with  his  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  re- 

59 


60  '   TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

sist  a  laughing  description  of  the  interview.  The  man  was 
large  and  bulky  in  build.  Over  the  breast  of  a  long,  loose, 
untidy  linen  duster  he  had  spread  the  crimson  sash,  as  he 
was  officer  of  the  day.  A  military  sword-belt  gathered  in  the 
voluminous  folds  of  the  coat,  and  from  his  side  hung  a  parade 
sword.  A  slouch  hat  was  crowded  down  on  a  shock  of  bushy 
hair.  One  trouser-leg  was  tucked  into  his  boot,  as  if  to 
represent  one  foot  in  the  cavalry;  the  other,  true  to  the  in- 
fantry, was  down  in  its  proper  place.  He  began  his  inter- 
view by  praising  his  regiment,  gave  an  account  of  the  success 
with  which  he  was  drilling  his  men,  and,  leaning  confiden- 
tially on  the  General's  knee,  tol,d  him  he  "would  make  them 

so near  like  regglers  you  couldn't  tell  'em  apart."     Two 

officers  of  the  regular  army  were  then  in  command  of  the  two 
brigades,  to  one  of  which  this  man's  regiment  was  assigned. 
But  the  object  of  the  visit  was  not  solely  to  praise  his  regi- 
ment; he  went  on  to  say  that  an  order  had  been  issued  which 
the  men  did  not  like,  and  he  had  come  up  to  expostulate. 
He  did  not  ask  to  have  the  order  rescinded,  but  told  the  Gen- 
eral he  would  like  to  have  him  come  down  and  give  the  rea- 
sons to  the  troops.  He  added  that  this  was  what  they  expect- 
ed, and  when  he  issued  any  command  he  went  out  and  got 
upon  a  barrel  and  explained  it  to  the  boys.  My  husband  lis- 
tened patiently,  but  declined,  as  that  manner  of  issuing  orders 
was  hardly  in  accordance  with  his  ideas  of  discipline. 

The  soldiers  did  not  confine  their  maledictions  to  the  regu- 
lar officers  in  command;  they  openly  refused  to  obey  their 
own  officers.  One  of  the  colonels  (I  am  glad  I  have  forgot- 
ten his  name)  made  a  social  call  at  our  house.  He  was  in 
great  perturbation  of  mind,  and  evidently  terrified,  as  in  the 
preceding  night  his  dissatisfied  soldiers  had  riddled  his  tent 
with  bullets,  and  but  for  his  "lying  low  "  he  would  have 
been  perforated  like  a  sieve.  The  men  supposed  they  had 
ended  his  military  career;  but  at  daylight  he  crept  out.  The 
soldiers  were  punished;  but  there  seemed  to  be  little  to  ex- 
pect in  the  way  of  obedience  if,  after  four  years,  they  ignored 
their  superiors  and  took  affairs  into  their  own  hands. 


A   MILITARY    EXECUTION.  6l 

Threats  began  to  make  their  way  to  our  house.  The  staff 
had  their  tents  on  the  lawn  in  front  of  us,  and  even  they 
tried  to  persuade  the  General  to  lock  the  doors  and  bolt  the 
windows,  which  were  left  wide  open  day  and  night.  Failing 
to  gain  his  consent  to  take  any  precautions,  they  asked  me 
to  use  my  influence;  but  in  such  affairs  I  had  little  success  in 
persuasion.  The  servants,  and  even  the  orderlies,  came  to 
me  and  solemnly  warned  me  of  the  threats  and  the  danger 
that  menaced  the  General.  Thoroughly  frightened  in  his 
behalf,  they  prefaced  their  warnings  with  the  old-fashioned 
sensational  language:  "This  night,  at  12  o'clock,"  etc. 
The  fixing  of  the  hour  for  the  arrival  of  the  assassin  com- 
pletely unnerved  me,  as  I  had  not  then  escaped  from  the  in- 
fluence that  the  melodramatic  has  upon  youth.  I  ran  to  the 
General  the  moment  he  came  from  his  office  duties,  to  tell 
him,  with  tears  and  agitation,  of  his  peril.  As  usual,  he 
soothed  my  fears,  but,  on  this  occasion,  only  temporarily. 
Still,  seeing  what  I  suffered  from  anxiety,  he  made  one  con- 
cession, and  consented,  after  much  imploring,  to  put  a  pistol 
under  his  pillow.  A  complete  battery  of  artillery  round  our 
house  could  not  have  secured  to  me  more  peace  of  mind  than 
that  pistol;  for  I  knew  the  accuracy  of  his  aim,  and  I  had 
known  too  much  of  his  cool,  resolute  action,  in  moments  of 
peril,  not  to  be  sure  that  the  small  weapon  would  do  its 
work.  Peace  was  restored  to  the  head  of  our  house;  he  had 
a  respite  from  the  whimpering  and  begging.  I  even  grew  so 
courageous  as  to  be  able  to  repeat  to  Eliza,  when  she  came 
next  morning  to  put  the  room  in  order,  what  the  General 
had  said  to  me,  that  "  barking  dogs  do  not  bite."  The  mat- 
tress was  proudly  lifted,  and  the  pistol,  of  which  I  stood  in 
awe,  in  spite  of  my  faith  in  its  efficacy,  was  exhibited  to  her 
in  triumph.  I  made  wide  detours  around  that  side  of  the 
bed  the  rest  of  the  time  we  remained  at  Alexandria,  afraid  of 
the  very  weapon  to  which  I  was  indebted  for  tranquil  hours. 
The  cats,  pigs  and  calves  might  charge  at  will  under  the 
house.  If  I  mistook  them  for  the  approaching  adversary  I 
remembered  the  revolver  and  was  calmed. 


62  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Long  afterward,  during  our  winter  in  Texas,  my  husband 
began  one  day  to  appear  mysterious,  and  assume  the  sup- 
pressed air  that  invariably  prefaced  a  season  of  tormenting, 
when  a  siege  of  questions  only  brought  out  deeper  and  ob- 
scurer answers  to  me.  Pouting,  tossing  of  the  head,  and 
reiterated  announcements  that  I  didn't  care  a  rap,  I  didn't 
want  to  know,  etc.,  were  met  by  chuckles  of  triumph  and 
wild  juba  patting  and  dancing  around  the  victim,  unrestrained 
by  my  saying  that  such  was  the  custom  of  the  savage  while 
torturing  his  prisoner.  Still,  he  persisted  that  he  had  such  a 
good  joke  on  me.  And  it  certainly  was:  there  had  not  been 
a  round  of  ammunition  in  the  house  that  we  occupied  at 
Alexandria,  neither  had  that  old  pistol  been  loaded  during 
the  entire  summer  ! 

The  soldiers  became  bolder  in  their  rebellion;  insubordi- 
nation reached  a  point  where  it  was  almost  uncontrollable. 
Reports  were  sent  to  General  Sheridan,  in  command  of  the 
Department,  and  he  replied  to  my  husband,  "Use  such  sum- 
mary measures  as  you  deem  proper  to  overcome  the  mutinous 
disposition  of  the  individuals  in  your  command. "  A  Western 
officer,  a  stranger  to  us  up  to  that  time,  published  an  ac- 
count of  one  of  the  regiments,  which  explains  what  was  not 
clear  to  us  then,  as  we  had  come  directly  from  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac: 

"One  regiment  had  suffered  somewhat  from  indifferent 
field  officers,  but  more  from  the  bad  fortune  that  overtook  so 
many  Western  regiments  in  the  shape  of  garrison  duty  in 
small  squads  or  squadrons,  so  scattered  as  to  make  each  a 
sort  of  independent  command,  which  in  the  end  resulted  in 
a  loss  of  discipline,  and  the  ruin  of  those  bonds  of  sympathy 
that  bound  most  regiments  together.  To  lead  such  a  regi- 
ment into  a  hotly  contested  fight  would  be  a  blessing,  and 
would  effectually  set  at  rest  all  such  trouble;  but  their  fight- 
ing had  been  altogether  of  the  guerrilla  kind,  and  there  was 
no  regimental  pride  of  character,  simply  because  there  had 
been  no  regimental  deed  of  valor.  Tired  out  with  the  long 
service,  weary  with  an  uncomfortable  journey  by  river  from 


A   MILITARY    EXECUTION.  63 

Memphis,  sweltering  under  a  Gulf-coast  sun,  under  orders  to 
go  farther  and  farther  from  home  when  the  war  was  over,  the 
one  desire  was  to  be  mustered  out  and  released  from  a  service 
that  became  irksome  and  baleful  when  a  prospect  of  crushing 
the  enemy  no  longer  existed.  All  these,  added  to  the  dis- 
satisfaction among  the  officers,  rendered  the  situation  truly 
deplorable.  The  command  had  hardly  pitched  their  tents 
at  Alexandria  before  the  spirit  of  reckless  disregard  of  author- 
ity began  to  manifest  itself.  The  men,  singly  or  in  squads, 
began  to  go  on  extemporaneous  raids  through  the  adjoining 
country,  robbing  and  plundering  indiscriminately  in  every 
direction.  They  seemed  to  have  no  idea  that  a  conquered 
and  subdued  people  could  possibly  have  any  rights  that  the 
conquerors  were  bound  to  respect.  But  General  Custer  was 
under  orders  to  treat  the  people  kindly  and  considerately, 
and  he  obeyed  orders  with  the  same  punctiliousness  with 
which  he  exacted  obedience  from  his  command."  The  anger 
and  hatred  of  these  troops  toward  one  especial  officer  culmi- 
nated in  their  peremptory  demand  that  he  should  resign. 
They  drew  up  a  paper,  and  signed  their  names.  He  had  not 
a  friend,  and  sought  the  commanding  officer  for  protection. 
This  was  too  pronounced  a  case  of  mutiny  to  be  treated  with 
any  but  the  promptest,  severest  measures,  and  all  who  had 
put  their  names  to  the  document  were  placed  under  arrest. 
The  paper  was  in  reality  but  a  small  part  of  the  incessant  per- 
secution, which  included  threats  of  all  kinds  against  the  life 
of  the  hated  man ;  but  it  was  written  proof  that  his  state- 
ments regarding  his  danger  were  true. 

All  but  one  of  those  that  were  implicated  apologized,  and 
were  restored  to  duty.  A  sergeant  held  out,  and  refused  to 
acknowledge  himself  in  the  wrong.  A  court-martial  tried 
him  and  he  was  sentenced  to  death.  Those  who  had  been 
associated  in  the  rebellion  against  their  officer  were  thor- 
oughly frightened,  and  seriously  grieved  at  the  fate  to  which 
their  comrade  had  been  consigned  by  their  uncontrollable 
rage,  and  began  to  speak  among  themselves  of  the  wife  and 
children  at  home.  The  wife  was  unconscious  that  the  heart- 


64  TENTING   ON    THE    PLAINS. 

breaking  revelations  were  on  their  way;  that  the  saddest  of 
woman's  sorrows,  widowhood,  was  hers  to  endure,  and 
that  her  children  must  bear  a  tainted  name.  It  came  to  be 
whispered  about  that  the  doomed  man  wore  on  his  heart  a 
curl  of  baby's  hair,  that  had  been  cut  from  his  child's  head 
when  he  went  out  to  serve  his  imperiled  country.  Finally, 
the  wretched,  conscience-stricken  soldiers  sued  for  pardon 
for  their  condemned  companion,  and  the  very  man  against 
whom  the  enmity  had  been  cherished,  and  who  owed  his  life 
to  an  accident,  busied  himself  in  collecting  the  name  of  every 
man  in  the  command,  begging  clemency  for  the  imperiled 
sergeant.  Six  days  passed,  and  there  was  increased  misery 
among  the  men,  who  felt  themselves  responsible  for  their 
comrade's  life.  The  prayer  for  pardon,  with  its  long  roll  of 
names,  had  been  met  by  the  General  with  the  reply  that  the 
matter  would  be  considered. 

The  men  now  prepared  for  vengeance.  They  lay  around 
the  camp-fires,  or  grouped  themselves  in  tents,  saying  that 
the  commanding  officer  would  not  dare  to  execute  the  sen- 
tence of  the  court-martial,  while  messages  of  this  kind  reached 
my  husband  in  cowardly,  roundabout  ways,  and  threats  and 
menaces  seemed  to  fill  the  air.  The  preparation  for  the  ser- 
geant's execution  was  ordered,  and  directions  given  that  a 
deserter,  tried  by  court-martial  and  condemned,  should  be 
shot  on  the  same  day.  This  man,  a  vagabond  and  criminal 
before  his  enlistment,  had  deserted  three  or  four  times,  and 
his  sentence  drew  little  pity  from  his  comrades.  At  last 
dawned  in  the  lovely  valley  that  dreadful  day,  which  I  recall 
now  with  a  shudder.  It  was  impossible  to  keep  me  from 
knowing  that  an  execution  was  to  occur.  There  was  no  place 
to  send  me.  The  subterfuges  by  which  my  husband  had 
kept  me  from  knowing  the  tragic  or  the  sorrowful  in  our  mil- 
itary life  heretofore,  were  of  no  avail  now.  Fortunately,  I 
knew  nothing  of  the  petition  for  pardon  ;  nothing,  thank 
God !  of  the  wife  at  her  home,  or  of  the  curl  of  baby's  hair 
that  was  rising  and  falling  over  the  throbbing,  agonized 
heart  of  the  condemned  father.  And  how  the  capacity  we 


A    MILITARY   EXECUTION.  65 

may  have  for  embracing  the  sorrows  of  the  whole  world  disap- 
pears when  our  selfish  terrors  concentrate  on  the  safety  of 
our  own  loved  ones  ! 

The  sergeant's  life  was  precious  as  a  life;  but  the  threats, 
the  ominous  and  quiet  watching,  the  malignant,  revengeful 
faces  of  the  troops  about  us,  told  me  plainly  that  another  day 
might  darken  my  life  forever,  and  I  was  consumed  by  my  own 
torturing  suspense.  Rumors  of  the  proposed  murder  of  my 
husband  reached  me  through  the  kitchen,  the  orderlies  about 
our  quarters,  and  at  last  through  the  staff.  They  had  fallen 
into  the  fashion  of  my  husband,  and  spared  me  anything  that 
was  agitating  or  alarming;  but  this  was  a  time,  they  felt, 
when  all  possible  measures  should  be  taken  to  protect  the 
General,  and  they  implored  me  to  induce  him  to  take  pre- 
cautions for  his  safety.  My  pleading  was  of  no  avail.  He 
had  ordered  the  staff  to  follow  him  unarmed  to  the  execu- 
tion. They  begged  him  to  wear  his  side-arms,  or  at  least  per- 
mit them  the  privilege,  in  order  that  they  might  defend  him; 
but  hfe  resolutely  refused.  How  trivial  seem  all  attempts  to 
describe  the  agonies  of  mind  that  filled  that  black  hour  when 
the  General  and  his  staff  rode  from  our  lawn  toward  the 
dreaded  field  ! 

Eliza,  ever  thoughtful  of  me,  hovered  round  the  bed,  where 
I  had  buried  my  head  in  the  pillows  to  deaden  the  sound  of 
the  expected  volley.  With  terms  of  endearment  and  sooth- 
ing, she  sought  to  assure  me  that  nothing  would  happen  to  the 
General.  "  Nothin'  ever  does,  you  know,  Miss  Libbie,"  she 
said,  her  voice  full  of  the  mother  in  us  all  when  we  seek  to 
console.  And  yet  that  woman  knew  all  the  plans  for  the 
General's  death,  all  the  venom  in  the  hearts  of  those  who 
surrounded  us,  and  she  felt  no  hope  for  his  safety. 

Pomp  and  circumstance  are  not  alone  for  "glorious  war,." 
but  in  army  life  must  also  be  observed  in  times  of  peace. 
There  are  good  reasons  for  it,  I  suppose.  The  more  form 
and  solemnity,  the  deeper  the  impression;  and  as  this  day 
was  to  be  a  crucial  one,  in  proving  to  the  insubordinate  that 
order  must  eventually  prevail,  nothing  was  hurried,  none  of 


66  TENTING    ON    THE    PLAINS. 

the  usual  customs  were  omitted.  Five  thousand  soldiers 
formed  a  hollow  square  in  a  field  near  the  town.  The  staff, 
accustomed  to  take  a  position  and  remain  with  their  General 
near  the  opening  left  by  the  division,  followed  with  wonder 
and  alarm  as  he  rode  slowly  around  the  entire  line,  so  near 
the  troops  that  a  hand  might  have  been  stretched  out  to  deal 
a  fatal  blow.  The  wagon,  drawn  by  four  horses,  bearing  the 
criminals  sitting  on  their  coffins,  followed  at  a  slow  pace,  es- 
corted by  the  guard  and  the  firing-party,  with  reversed  arms. 
The  coffins  were  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  square,  and  the 
men  seated  upon  them  at  the  foot  of  their  open  graves. 
Eight  men,  with  livid  countenances  and  vehemently  beating 
hearts,  took  their  places  in  front  of  their  comrades,  and 
looked  upon  the  blanched,  despairing  faces  of  those  whom 
they  were  ordered  to  kill.  The  provost-marshal  carried  their 
carbines  off  to  a  distance,  loaded  seven,  and  placed  a  blank 
cartridge  in  the  eighth,  thus  giving  the  merciful  boon  of  per- 
manent uncertainty  as  to  whose  was  the  fatal  shot.  The 
eyes  of  the  poor  victims  were  then  bandaged,  while  thousands 
of  men  held  their  breath  as  the  tragedy  went  on.  The  still, 
Southern  air  of  that  garden  on  earth  was  unmoved  by  any 
sound,  save  the  unceasing  notes  of  the  mocking-birds  that 
sang  night  and  day  in  the  hedges.  Preparations  had  been 
so  accurately  made  that  there  was  but  one  word  to  be  spoken 
after  the  reading  of  the  warrant  for  execution,  and  that  the 
last  that  those  most  miserable  and  hopeless  of  God's  crea- 
tures should  hear  on  earth. 

There  was  still  one  more  duty  for  the  provost-marshal 
before  the  fatal  word,  "  Fire  !"  was  sounded.  But  one  per- 
son understood  his  movements  as  he  stealthily  drew  near  the 
sergeant,  took  his  arm,  and  led  him  aside.  In  an  instant  his 
voice  rang  out  the  fatal  word,  and  the  deserter  fell  back  dead, 
in  blessed  ignorance  that  he  went  into  eternity  alone;  while 
the  sergeant  swooned  in  the  arms  of  the  provost-marshal. 
When  he  was  revived,  it  was  explained  to  him  that  the  Gen- 
eral believed  him  to  have  been  the  victim  of  undue  influence, 
and  had  long  since  determined  upon  the  pardon;  but  some 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  67 

punishment  he  thought  necessary,  and  he  was  also  deter- 
mined that  the  soldiers  should  not  feel  that  he  had  been  in- 
timidated from  performing  his  duty  because  his  own  life  was 
in  peril.  It  was  ascertained  afterward  that  the  sergeant's  reg- 
iment had  gone  out  that  day  with  loaded  carbines  and  forty 
rounds  besides;  but  the  knowledge  of  this  would  have  alter- 
ed no  plan,  nor  would  it  have  induced  the  commanding 
officer  to  reveal  to  any  but  his  provost-marshal  the  final  de- 
cision. 

Let  us  hope  that  in  these  blessed  days  of  peace  some  other 
tiny  curls  are  nestling  in  a  grandfather's  neck,  instead  of  ly- 
ing over  his  heart,  as  did  the  son's  in  those  days,  when  mem- 
ories and  mementos  were  all  we  had  of  those  we  loved. 

General  Custer  not  only  had  his  own  Division  to  organize 
and  discipline,  but  was  constantly  occupied  in  trying  to  estab- 
lish some  sort  of  harmony  between  the  Confederate  soldiers, 
the  citizens,  and  his  command.  The  blood  of  everyone  was 
at  boiling-point  then.  The  soldiers  had  not  the  grief  of  re- 
turning to  homes  desolated  by  war,  because  Louisiana  escaped 
much  and  Texas  all  of  the  devastation  of  campaigns;  but 
they  came  home  obliged  to  begin  the  world  again.  The  ne- 
groes of  the  Red  River  country  were  not  an  easy  class  to  man- 
age in  days  of  slavery.  We  heard  that  all  desperate  charac- 
ters in  the  border  States  had  been  sold  into  Louisiana, 
because  of  its  comparative  isolation,  and  that  the  most  un- 
governable cases  were  congregated  in  the  valley  of  the  Red 
River.  However  that  may  have  been,  it  certainly  was  diffi- 
cult to  make  them  conform  to  the  new  state  of  affairs.  The 
master,  unaccustomed  to  freedom,  still  treated  the  negro  as 
a  slave.  The  colored  man,  inflated  with  freedom  and  revel- 
ing in  idleness,  would  not  accept  common  directions  in  labor. 
How  even  the  South  tolerates  a  name  that  it  once  hated,  in 
the  prosperity  of  the  new  regime,  and  in  the  prospect  of 
their  splendid  future  !  How  fresh  the  enthusiasm  in  the 
present  day,  at  any  mention  of  the  liberator  of  the  slaves  ! 

But  when  we  consider  through  what  bungling  errors  we 
groped  blindly  in  those  early  days  of  emancipation,  we  might 


68  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

well  wish  that  Abraham  Lincoln  could  have  been  spared  to 
bring  his  justice  and  gentle  humanity  to  bear  upon  the  ad- 
justing of  that  great  transition  from  slavery  to  freedom. 

At  the  least  intimation  of  a  "  show  "  or  a  funeral — which 
is  a  festivity  to  them,  on  account  of  the  crowds  that  congre- 
gate— off  went  the  entire  body  of  men,  even  if  the  crops  were 
in  danger  of  spoiling  for  want  of  harvesting.  It  was  a  time 
in  our  history  that  one  does  not  like  to  look  back  upon. 
The  excitement  into  which  the  land  was  thrown,  not  only  by 
war,  but  by  the  puzzling  question  of  how  to  reconcile  master 
to  servant  and  servant  to  master — for  the  colored  people  were 
an  element  most  difficult  to  manage,  owing  to  their  ignor- 
ance and  the  sudden  change  of  relations  to  their  former  own- 
ers— all  this  created  new  and  perplexing  problems,  which  were 
the  order  of  each  day. 

The  Confederate  soldiers  had  to  get  their  blood  down  from 
fever  heat.  Some  took  advantage  of  the  fact  that  the  war 
was  over  and  the  Government  was  ordering  its  soldiers  into 
the  State,  not  as  invaders  but  as  pacifiers,  to  drag  their  sa- 
bres through  the  street  and  talk  loudly  on  the  corners  in  bel- 
ligerent language,  without  fear  of  the  imprisonment  that  in 
war-times  had  so  quickly  followed. 

The  General  was  obliged  to  issue  simultaneous  orders  to 
his  own  men,  demanding  their  observance  of  every  right  of 
the  citizen,  and  to  the  returned  Confederate  soldiers,  assur- 
ing them  that  the  Government  had  not  sent  troops  into  their 
country  as  belligerents,  but  insisting  upon  certain  obliga- 
tions, as  citizens,  from  them. 

In  an  order  to  the  Division,  he  said:  "Numerous  com- 
plaints having  reached  these  headquarters,  of  depredations 
having  been  committed  by  persons  belonging  to  this  com- 
mand, all  officers  and  soldiers  are  hereby  urged  to  use  every 
exertion  to  prevent  the  committal  of  acts  of  lawlessness, 
which,  if  permitted  to  pass  unpunished,  will  bring  discredit 
upon  the  command.  Now  that  the  war  is  virtually  ended, 
the  rebellion  put  down,  and  peace  about  to  be  restored  to 
our  entire  country,  let  not  the  lustre  of  the  past  four  years 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  69 

be  dimmed  by  a  single  act  of  misconduct  toward  the  persons 
or  property  of  those  with  whom  we  may  be  brought  in  con- 
tact. In  the  future,  and  particularly  on  the  march,  the  ut- 
most care  will  be  exercised  to  save  the  inhabitants  of  the 
country  in  which  we  may  be  located  from  any  molestation 
whatever.  Every  violation  of  order  regarding  foraging  will 
be  punished.  The  Commanding-General  is  well  aware  that 
the  number  of  those  upon  whom  the  enforcement  of  this  or- 
der will  be  necessary  will  be  small,  and  he  trusts  that  in  no 
case  will  it  be  necessary.  All  officers  and  soldiers  of  this 
command  are  earnestly  reminded  to  treat  the  inhabitants  of 
this  Department  with  conciliation  and  kindness,  and  particu- 
larly is  this  injunction  necessary  when  we  are  brought  in 
contact  with  those  who  lately  were  in  arms  against  us.  You 
can  well  afford  to  be  generous  and  magnanimous." 

In  another  order,  addressed  to  the  Confederate  soldiers,  he 
said:  "  It  is  expected,  and  it  will  be  required,  that  those  who 
were  once  our  enemies,  but  are  now  to  be  treated  as  friends, 
will  in  return  refrain  from  idle  boasts,  which  can  only  result 
in  harm  to  themselves.  If  there  still  be  any  who,  blind  to 
the  events  of  the  past  four  years,  continue  to  indulge  in  se- 
ditious harangues,  all  such  disturbers  of  the  peace  will  be  ar- 
rested, and  brought  to  these  headquarters." 

Between  the  troublesome  negroes,  the  unsubdued  Confed- 
erates, and  the  lawless  among  our  own  soldiers,  life  was  by 
no  means  an  easy  problem  to  solve.  A  boy  of  twenty-five 
was  then  expected  to  act  the  subtle  part  of  statesman  and 
patriot,  and  conciliate  and  soothe  the  citizen;  the  part  of 
stern  and  unrelenting  soldier,  punishing  evidences  of  unsup- 
pressed  rebellion  on  the  part  of  the  conquered ;  and  at  the 
same  time  the  vigilant  commanding  officer,  exacting  obedi- 
ence from  his  own  disaffected  soldiery. 

As  for  the  positions  he  filled  toward  the  negro,  they  were 
varied  —  counseling  these  duties  to  those  who  employed 
them,  warning  them  from  idleness,  and  urging  them  to  work, 
feeding  and  clothing  the  impoverished  and  the  old.  It  seems 
to  me  it  was  a  position  combining  in  one  man  doctor,  lawyer, 


70  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

taskmaster,  father  and  provider.  The  town  and  camp 
swarmed  with  the  colored  people,  lazily  lying  around  waiting 
for  the  Government  to  take  care  of  them,  and  it  was  neces- 
sary to  issue  a  long  order  to  the  negroes,  from  which  I  make 
an  extract: 

"  Since  the  recent  advent  of  the  United  States  forces  into 
this  vicinity,  many  of  the  freedmen  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try seem  to  have  imbibed  the  idea  that  they  will  no  longer  be 
required  to  labor  for  thek  own  support  and  the  support  of 
those  depending  upon  them.  Such  ideas  cannot  be  tolerated, 
being  alike  injurious  to  the  interests  and  welfare  of  the  freed- 
men and  their  employers.  Freedmen  must  not  look  upon 
military  posts  as  places  of  idle  resort,  from  which  they  can 
draw  their  means  of  support.  Their  proper  course  is  to  ob- 
tain employment,  if  possible,  upon  the  same  plantations 
where  they  were  previously  employed.  General  Order  No. 
23,  Headquarters  Department  of  the  Gulf,  March  u,  1865, 
prescribes  the  rules  of  contract  in  the  case  of  these  persons. 
The  coming  crops,  already  maturing,  require  cultivation,  and 
will  furnish  employment  for  all  who  are  disposed  to  be  indus- 
trious. Hereafter,  no  freedmen  will  be  permitted  to  remain 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  camps  who  are  not  engaged  in  some 
proper  employment. " 

Standing  alone  in  the  midst  of  all  this  confusion,  and  en- 
deavoring to  administer  justice  on  all  sides,  General  Custer 
had  by  no  means  an  enviable  task.  I  do  not  wonder  now 
that  he  kept  his  perplexities  as  much  as  possible  from  me. 
He  wished  to  spare  me  anxiety,  and  the  romp  or  the  gallop 
over  the  fragrant  field,  which  he  asked  for  as  soon  as  office- 
hours  were  over,  was  probably  more  enjoyable  with  a  woman 
with  uncorrugated  brow.  Still,  I  see  now  the  puzzled  shake 
of  the  head  as  he  said,  "  A  man  may  do  everything  to  keep 
a  woman  from  knowledge  of  official  matters,  and  then  she 
gets  so  confounded  keen  in  putting  little  trifles  together,  the 
first  thing  you  know  she  is  reading  a  man's  very  thoughts." 
Yet  it  does  not  strike  me  as  remarkable  keenness  on  the  part 
of  a  woman  if,  after  the  experience  she  gains  in  following  the 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  ?I 

bugle  a  time,  and  with  her  wits  sharpened  by  affection,  she 
decides  that  a  move  is  about  to  take  place.  The  General 
used  to  turn  quickly,  almost  suspiciously,  to  me  and  say, 
as  if  1  had  been  told  by  the  staff,  "  How  did  you  find  out  we 
were  ordered  to  move  ?  " — when  he  had  been  sending  for  the 
quartermaster  and  the  commissary,  and  looking  at  his  maps, 
for  ever  so  long  before  !  It  was  not  much  of  a  mystery  to 
solve  when  the  quartermaster  meant  transportation,  the  com- 
missary food,  and  the  maps  a  new  route. 

After  determined  efforts  to  establish  discipline,  order  began 
to  be  evolved  out  of  the  chaos,  and  the  men  resigned  them- 
selves to  their  hard  fate.  Much  as  I  feared  them,  and  great- 
ly as  I  had  resented  their  attempt  to  lay  all  their  present 
detention  and  compulsory  service  to  my  husband,  I  could 
not  but  agree  with  him  when  he  argued  for  them  that  it  was 
pretty  hard  not  to  be  allowed  to  go  home,  when  the  other 
soldiers  had  returned  to  receive  the  rewards  of  the  victorious. 
They  wrote  home  abusive  newspaper  articles,  which  were 
promptly  mailed  to  the  General  by  unknown  hands,  but  of 
which  he  took  no  notice.  I  recollect  only  once,  after  that, 
knowing  of  an  absolutely  disagreeable  encounter.  During 
the  following  winter  in  Texas,  my  husband  came  quickly  into 
our  room  one  morning,  took  my  riding-whip  and  returned 
across  the  hall  to  his  office.  In  a  short  time  he  as  quickly 
returned,  and  restored  it  to  its  place,  and  I  extracted  from 
him  an  explanation.  Among  the  newspaper  articles  sent  him 
from  the  North,  there  was  an  attack  on  his  dear,  quiet,  un- 
offending father  and  mother.  He  sent  for  the  officer  who 
was  credited  with  the  authorship,  and,  after  his  denial  of  the 
article,  told  him  what  he  had  intended  to  do  had  he  been 
guilty  of  such  an  assault;  that  he  was  prepared  for  any  attack 
on  himself,  but  nothing  would  make  him  submit  to  seeing 
his  gray-haired  parents  assailed.  Then  he  bade  him  good- 
morning,  and  bowed  him  out. 

The  effect  of  the  weeks  of  discipline  on  the  Division  was 
visible  on  our  march  into  Texas.  The  General -had  believed 
that  the  men  would  eventually  conform  to  the  restrictions, 


72  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

and  he  was  heartily  relieved  and  glad  to  find  that  they  did. 
The  Texans  were  amazed  at  the  absence  of  the  lawlessness 
they  had  expected  from  our  army,  and  thankful  to  find  that 
the  Yankee  column  was  neither  devastating  nor  even  injur- 
ing their  hitherto  unmolested  State,  for  the  war  on  land  had 
not  reached  Texas.  The  troops  were  not  permitted  to  live 
on  the  country,  as  is  the  usage  of  war,  and  only  one  instance 
occurred,  during  the  entire  march,  of  a  soldier's  simply  help- 
ing himself  to  a  farmer's  grain.  Every  pound  of  food  and 
forage  was  bought  by  the  quartermaster.  It  was  hard  to 
realize  that  the  column  marching  in  a  methodical  and  order- 
ly manner  was,  so  short  a  time  before,  a  lawless  and  mutinous 
command. 

They  hated  us,  I  suppose.  That  is  the  penalty  the  com- 
manding officer  generally  pays  for  what  still  seems  to  me  the 
questionable  privilege  of  rank  and  power.  Whatever  they 
thought,  it  did  not  deter  us  from  commending,  among  our- 
selves, the  good  material  in  those  Western  men,  which  so 
soon  made  them  orderly  and  obedient  soldiers. 

But  I  have  anticipated  somewhat,  and  must  go  back  and 
say  good-by  to  that  rich,  flower-scented  valley.  It  had  been 
a  strange  experience  to  me.  I  had  no  woman  but  Eliza  to 
whom  I  could  speak.  The  country  and  all  its  customs  seemed 
like  another  world,  into  which  I  had  unexpectedly  entered. 
I  had  spent  many  hours  of  anxiety  about  my  husband's  safety. 
But  the  anxiety,  heat,  mosquitoes,  poor  water,  alligators, 
mutiny,  all  combined,  failed  to  extract  a  complaint.  There 
was  not  an  atom  of  heroism  in  this;  it  was  undeniably  the 
shrewd  cunning  of  which  women  are  accused,  for  I  lived  in 
hourly  dread  of  being  sent  to  Texas  by  the  other  route,  via 
New  Orleans  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  The  General  had  been 
advised  by  letters  from  home  to  send  me  that  way,  on  the 
ground  that  I  could  not  endure  a  march  at  that  season. 
Officers  took  on  a  tone  of  superiority,  and  said  that  they 
would  not  think  of  taking  their  wives  into  such  a  wilderness. 
My  fate  hung  in  the  balance,  and  under  such  circumstances 
it  was  not  strange  that  the  inconveniences  of  our  stay  on 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  73 

Red  River  were  not  even  so  much  as  acknowledged.  It  is 
true  that  I  was  not  then  a  veteran  campaigner,  and  the  very 
newness  of  the  hardships  would,  doubtless,  have  called  forth 
a  few  sighs,  had  not  the  fear  of  another  separation  haunted 
me.  It  is  astonishing  how  much  grumbling  is  suppressed  by 
the  fear  of  something  worse  awaiting  you.  In  the  decision 
which  direction  I  was  to  take,  I  won;  my  husband's  scruples 
were  overcome  by  my  unanswerable  arguments  and  his  own 
inclination. 

I  prepared  to  leave  Alexandria  with  regret,  for  the  pleas- 
ures of  our  stay  had  outnumbered  the  drawbacks.  It  was  our 
first  knowledge  that  the  earth  could  be  so  lovely  and  so  lavish- 
ly laden  with  what  began  to  be  tropical  luxuriance.  I  do  not 
recall  the  names  of  all  the  birds,  but  the  throats  of  all  of  them 
seemed  to  be  filled  with  song.  In  a  semicircle  on  the  lawn 
in  front  of  our  house,  grew  a  thick  hedge  of  crape  myrtle, 
covered  with  fragrant  blossoms.  Here  the  mocking-birds 
fearlessly  built  their  nests,  and  the  stillest  hour  of  the  night 
was  made  melodious  with  the  song  that  twilight  had  been  too 
short  to  complete.  Really,  the  summer  day  there  was  too 
brief  to  tell  all  that  these  birds  had  to  say  to  their  mates. 

To  the  General,  who  would  have  had  an  aviary  had  it  been 
just  the  thing  for  a  mounted  regiment,  all  this  song,  day  and 
night,  was  enchanting.  In  after  years  he  never  forgot  those 
midnight  serenades,  and  in  1873  he  took  a  mocking-bird  into 
the  bleak  climate  of  Dakota.  Eliza  mildly  growled  at  "  sich 
nonsense  "as  "  toting  round  a  bird,  when  'twas  all  folks  like 
us  could  do  to  get  transportation  for  a  cooking-kit."  Never- 
theless, she  took  excellent  care  of  the  feathered  tribe  that  we 
owned. 

Among  the  fruits  we  first  ate  in  Louisiana  were  fresh  figs, 
which  we  picked  from  the  tree.  It  was  something  to  write 
home  about,  but  at  the  same  time  we  wished  that  instead  we 
might  have  a  Northern  apple. 

The  time  came  to  bid  farewell  to  birds,  fruits,  jasmine  and 
rose,  and  prepare  for  a  plunge  into  the  wilderness — much 
talked  of  with  foreboding  prophecies  by  the  citizens,  but  a 


74  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

hundred  times  worse  in  reality  than  the  gloomiest  predic- 
tions. 

It  was  known  that  the  country  through  which  we  were  to 
travel,  having  been  inaccessible  to  merchants,  and  being  even 
then  infested  with  guerrillas,  had  large  accumulations  of  cot- 
ton stored  at  intervals  along  the  route  that  was  marked  out 
for  our  journey.  Speculators  arrived  from  New  Orleans,  and 
solicited  the  privilege  of  following  with  wagons  that  they  in- 
tended to  load  with  cotton.  They  asked  no  favors,  desiring 
only  the  protection  that  the  cavalry  column  would  afford, 
and  expected  to  make  their  way  in  our  wake  until  the  sea- 
board was  reached  and  they  could  ship  their  purchases  by  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico.  But  their  request  was  refused,  as  the  Gen- 
eral hardly  thought  it  a  fitting  use  to  which  to  put  the  army. 
Then  they  assailed  the  quartermaster,  offering  twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  to  the  General  and  him,  as  a  bribe.  But 
both  men  laughed  to  scorn  that  manner  of  getting  rich,  and 
returned  to  their  homes  the  year  after  as  poor  as  when  they 
had  left  there  five  years  before.  As  I  think  of  the  instances 
that  came  under  my  knowledge,  when  quartermasters  could 
have  made  fortunes,  it  is  a  marvel  to  me  that  they  so  often 
resisted  all  manner  of  temptation.  The  old  tale,  perhaps 
dating  back  to  the  War  of  1812,  still  applies,  as  it  is  a  con- 
stantly recurring  experience.  There  was  once  a  wag  in  the 
quartermaster's  department,  and  even  when  weighted  down 
with  grave  responsibility  of  a  portion  of  the  Government 
treasury,  he  still  retained  a  glimmer  of  fun.  Contractors  lay 
in  wait  for  him  with  bribes,  which  his  spirit  of  humor  allowed 
to  increase,  even  though  the  offers  were  insults  to  his  honor. 
Finally,  reaching  a  very  large  sum,  in  sheer  desperation  he 
wrote  to  the  War  Department:  "In  the  name  of  all  the  gods, 
relieve  me  from  this  Department;  they've  almost  got  up  to 
my  price."  Civilians  hardly  realize  that,  even  in  times  of 
peace  like  this,  when  the  disbursements  will  not  compare  with 
the  money  spent  in  years  of  war,  between  eight  and  nine 
millions  of  dollars  are  yearly  paid  out  by  the  quartermaster's 
department  alone.  Since  the  war  the  embezzlements  have 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  75 

been  hardly  worthy  of  so  serious  a  name,  amounting  to  but 
a  few  hundred  dollars,  all  told. 

The  General  had  an  ambulance  fitted  up  as  a  traveling- 
wagon  for  me;  the  seats  so  arranged  that  the  leather  backs 
could  be  unstrapped  at  the  sides  and  laid  down  so  as  to  form 
a  bed,  if  I  wished  to  rest  during  the  march.  There  was  a 
pocket  for  my  needlework  and  book,  and  a  box  for  luncheon, 
while  my  traveling-bag  and  shawl  were  strapped  at  the  side, 
convenient,  but  out  of  the  way.  It  was  quite  a  complete 
little  house  of  itself.  One  of  the  soldiers,  who  was  interested 
in  the  preparations  for  my  comfort,  covered  a  canteen  with 
leather,  adding  of  his  own  accord,  in  fine  stitchery  in  the 
yellow  silk  used  by  the  saddlers,  "  Lady  Custer."  Each  day 
of  our  journey  this  lofty  distinction  became  more  and  more 
incongruous  and  amusing,  as  I  realized  the  increasing  ugli- 
ness, for  which  the  rough  life  was,  in  a  measure,  responsible. 
By  the  time  we  reached  the  end  of  our  march  there  was  a 
yawning  gulf  between  the  soldier's  title  and  the  appearance 
of  the  owner  of  the  canteen.  The  guide  that  had  been  em- 
ployed was  well  up  in  all  the  devices  for  securing  what  little 
measure  of  comfort  was  to  be  found  in  overland  travel.  I 
followed  his  suggestion,  and  after  the  canteen  was  filled  in 
the  morning,  it  was  covered  with  a  piece  of  wet  blanket  and 
hung,  with  the  cork  left  out,  to  the  roof  of  the  wagon,  in 
order  to  catch  all  the  air  that  might  be  stirring.  Under  this 
damp  treatment  the  yellow  letters  of  "  Lady  Custer  "  faded 
out  as  effectually  as  did  all  semblance  of  whatever  delicacy  of 
coloring  the  owner  once  possessed. 

A  short  time  after  we  set  out,  we  left  the  valley  of  the  Red 
River,  with  its  fertile  plantations,  and  entered  a  pine  forest 
on  the  table-land,  through  which  our  route  lay  for  a  hundred 
and  fifty  miles.  A  great  portion  of  the  higher  ground  was 
sterile,  and  the  forest  much  of  the  way  was  thinly  inhabited. 
We  had  expected  to  hire  a  room  in  any  farm-house  at  which 
we  halted  at  the  end  of  each  day's  journey,  and  have  the 
privilege  of  sleeping  in  a  bed.  Camping  on  the  ground  was 
an  old  story  to  me  after  our  long  march  in  Virginia;  but, 


76  TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

with  the  prospect  of  using  the  bosom  of  mother  Earth  as  a 
resting-place  for  the  coming  thirty  years,  we  were  willing  to 
improve  any  opportunity  to  be  comfortable  when  we  could. 
The  cabins  that  we  passed  on  the  first  day  discouraged  us. 
Small,  low,  log  huts,  consisting  of  one  room  each,  entirely 
separated  and  having  a  floored  open  space  between  them, 
were  the  customary  architecture.  The  windows  and  doors 
were  filled  with  the  vacant  faces  of  the  untidy  children  of  the 
poor  white  trash  and  negroes.  The  men  and  women  slouched 
and  skulked  around  the  cabins  out  of  sight,  and  every  sign 
of  abject,  loathsome  poverty  was  visible,  even  in  the  gaunt 
and  famished  pigs  that  rooted  around  the  doorway.  I  de- 
termined to  camp  out  until  we  came  to  more  inviting  habita- 
tions, which,  I  regret  to  say,  we  did  not  find  on  that  march. 
We  had  not  brought  the  thin  mattress  and  pillows  that  had 
been  made  for  our  travel  ing- wagon  in  Virginia;  but  the  hard- 
est sort  of  resting-place  was  preferable  to  braving  the  squalor 
of  the  huts  along  our  way. 

My  husband  rolled  his  overcoat  for  my  pillow,  telling  me 
that  a  soldier  slept  like  a  top  with  such  an  one,  and  it  was 
much  better  than  a  saddle,  in  the  hollow  of  which  he  had 
often  laid  his  flaxen  top-knot.  But  a  woman  cannot  make 
herself  into  a  good  soldier  all  in  a  minute.  If  one  takes  hold 
of  the  thick,  unwieldy  material  that  Uncle  Sam  puts  into  the 
army  overcoat,  some  idea  can  be  gained  of  the  rocky  roll  it 
makes  when  doing  duty  as  a  resting-place;  and  anyone  whose 
neck  has  made  the  steep  incline  from  head  to  shoulder  that 
this  substitute  for  a  pillow  necessitates,  is  apt  to  waken  less 
patriotic  than  when  he  retired.  After  repeated  efforts  to  get 
accustomed  to  this,  buoyed  up  by  my  husband's  praise  of  my 
veteran-like  behavior,  I  confided  to  Eliza  that  I  should  not 
be  ungrateful  for  any  device  she  might  think  out  for  my  re- 
lief, if  she  would  promise  not  to  tell  that  I  had  spoken  to 
her.  The  next  day  she  gathered  moss  from  the  trees  along 
the  stream,  and  I  felt  that  I  could  serve  my  country  just  as 
well  by  resting  on  this  soft  bed.  I  had  begged  off  from  using 
a  tent  in  that  country,  as  there  seemed  to  be  no  insect  that 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  77 

was  not  poisonous,  and  even  many  of  the  vines  and  under- 
brush were  dangerous  to  touch.  My  husband  had  the  wagon 
placed  in  front  of  the  tent  every  night  when  our  march  was 
ended,  and  lifted  me  in  and  out  of  the  high  sleeping-room, 
where  I  felt  that  nothing  venomous  could  climb  up  and 
sting.  The  moss,  though  very  comfortable,  often  held  in  its 
meshes  the  horned  toad,  a  harmless  little  mottled  creature 
that  had  two  tiny  horns,  which  it  turned  from  side  to  side  in 
the  gravest,  most  knowing  sort  of  way.  The  officers  sent 
these  little  creatures  home  by  mail  as  curiosities,  and,  true  to 
their  well-known  indifference  to  air,  they  jumped  out  of  the 
box  at  the  journey's  end  in  just  the  same  active  manner  that 
they  had  hopped  about  under  our  feet*  Still,  harmless  as 
they  were  held  to  be,  they  were  not  exactly  my  choice  as 
bed-fellows,  any  more  than  the  lizards  the  Texanscall  swifts, 
which  also  haunted  the  tangles  of  the  moss.  Eliza  tried  to 
shake  out  and  beat  it  thoroughly,  in  order  to  dislodge  any 
inhabitants,  before  making  my  bed.  One  night  I  found  that 
hay  had  been  substituted,  and  felt  myself  rich  in  luxury.  I 
remembered  gladly  that  hay  was  so  clean,  so  free  from  all 
natural  history,  and  closed  my  eyes  in  gratitude.  And  then 
it  smelt  so  good,  so  much  better  than  the  damp,  vegetable 
odor  of  the  moss.  A  smudge  at  the  end  of  the  wagon  was 
rising  about  me  to  drive  away  mosquitoes,  and  though  the 
smoke  scalds  the  eyes  in  this  heroic  remedy,  I  still  comforted 
myself  with  the  fresh  odor  of  the  hay,  and  quietly  thought 
that  life  in  a  manger  was  not  the  worst  fate  that  could  come 
to  one.  All  this  pervading  sense  of  comfort  was  slightly  dis- 
turbed in  the  night,  when  I  was  awakened  by  a  munching 
and  crunching  at  my  ear.  Wisps  of  hay  were  lying  over  the 
side  of  the  wagon,  as  it  was  too  warm  to  leave  the  curtains 
down,  and  the  attraction  proved  too  much  for  a  stray  mule, 
which  was  quietly  eating  the  pillow  from  under  my  head.  It 
was  well  our  tent  and  wagon  were  placed  to  one  side,  quite 
off  by  themselves,  for  the  General  would  have  waked  the 
camp  with  his  peals  of  laughter  at  my  indignation  and  mo- 
mentary fright.  It  did  not  need  much  persuasion  to  rout 


78  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

the  mule  after  all  the  hubbub  my  husband  made  with  his 
merriment,  but  I  found  that  I  inclined  to  the  moss  bed  after 
that. 

As  we  advanced  farther  into  the  forest,  Eliza  received  fur- 
ther whispered  confidences  about  my  neck,  stiff  and  sore 
from  the  roll  of  patriotic  blue  that  was  still  the  rest  for  my 
tired  head,  and  she  resolved  to  make  an  attempt  to  get  a 
feather  pillow.  One  day  she  discovered,  near  our  camp,  a 
house  that  was  cleaner  than  the  rest  we  had  seen,  and  began 


A   MULE   LUNCHING   FROM   A    PILLOW. 

negotiations  with  the  mistress.  She  offered  a  "  greenback," 
as  we  had  no  silver  then ;  but  they  had  never  seen  one,  and 
would  not  believe  that  it  was  legal  money.  Finally,  the 
woman  said  that,  if  we  had  any  calico  or  muslin  for  sale,  she 
would  exchange  her  pillows  for  either  the  one  or  the  other. 
Eliza  forgot  her  diplomacy,  and  rather  indignantly  explained 
that  we  were  not  traveling  peddlers.  At  last,  after  several 
trips  to  and  from  our  camp,  in  which  I  was  secretly  inter- 
ested, she  made  what  she  thought  a  successful  trade  by  ex- 
changing some  blankets.  Like  the  wag's  description  of  the 


A   MILITARY   EXECUTION.  79 

first  Pullman-car  pillows,  which  he  said  he  lost  in  his  ear, 
they  were  diminutive  excuses  for  our  idea  of  what  one  should 
be,  but  I  cannot  remember  anything  that  ever  impressed  me 
as  such  a  luxury;  and  I  was  glad  to  see  that,  when  the  pillows 
were  installed  in  their  place,  the  faith  in  my  patriotism  and 
in  my  willingness  to  endure  privations  was  not  shaken. 

The  General  was  satisfied  with  his  soldiers,  and  admired 
the  manner  in  which  they  endured  the  trials  of  that  hard  ex- 
perience. His  perplexities  departed  when  they  took  every- 
thing so  bravely.  He  tried  to  arrange  our  marches  every 
day  so  that  we  might  not  travel  over  fifteen  miles.  So  far  as 
I  can  remember,  there  was  no  one  whose  temper  and  strength 
were  not  tried  to  the  uttermost,  except  my  husband.  His 
seeming  indifference  to  excessive  heat,  his  having  long  before 
conquered  thirst,  his  apparent  unconsciousness  of  the  stings 
or  bites  of  insects,  were  powerful  aids  in  encountering  those 
suffocating  days.  Frequently  after  a  long  march,  when  we 
all  gasped  for  breath,  and  in  our  exhaustion  flung  ourselves 
down  "  anywhere  to  die,"  as  we  laughingly  said,  a  fresh  horse 
was  saddled,  and  off  went  the  General  for  a  hunt,  or  to  look 
up  the  prospects  for  water  in  our  next  day's  journey.  If  this 
stifling  atmosphere,  to  which  we  were  daily  subjected,  dis- 
turbed him,  we  did  not  know  it.  He  held  that  grumbling 
did  not  mend  matters;  but  I  differed  with  him.  I  still  think 
a  little  complaining,  when  the  patience  is  sorely  taxed,  eases 
the  troubled  soul,  though  at  that  time  I  took  good  care  not 
to  put  my  theory  into  practice,  for  reasons  I  have  explained 
when  the  question  of  my  joining  the  march  hung  in  the  bal- 
ance. 

My  life  in  a  wagon  soon  became  such  an  6ld  story  that  I 
could  hardly  believe  I  had  ever  had  a  room.  It  constantly 
reminded  me  of  my  father.  He  had  opposed  my  marrying  in 
the  army,  as  I  suppose  most  fond  fathers  do.  His  opposition 
caused  me  great  suspense,  and  I  thought,  as  all  the  very 
young  are  apt  to,  that  it  was  hopeless  misery.  Now  that  the 
struggle  was  ended,  I  began  to  recall  the  arguments  of  my 
parents.  Father's  principal  one,  mindful  of  the  deprivations 


8O  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

he  had  seen  officers'  wives  endure  in  Michigan's  early  days, 
was  that,  after  the  charm  and  dazzle  of  the  epaulet  had 
passed,  I  might  have  to  travel  "  in  a  covered  wagon  like  an 
emigrant."  I  told  this  reason  of  my  father's  to  my  husband, 
and  he  often  laughed  over  it.  When  I  was  lifted  from  my 
rather  lofty  apartment,  and  set  down  in  the  tent  in  the  dark 
— and  before  dawn  in  a  pine  forest  it  is  dark — the  candle  re- 
vealed a  twinkle  in  the  eye  of  a  man  who  could  joke  before 
breakfast.  "  I  wonder  what  your  father  would  say  now," 
was  the  oft-repeated  remark,  while  the  silent  partner  scrabbled 
around  to  get  ready  for  the  day.  There  was  always  a  per- 
vading terror  of  being  late,  and  I  could  not  believe  but  that 
it  might  happen,  some  day,  that  thousands  of  men  would  be 
kept  waiting  because  a  woman  had  lost  her  hair-pins.  Imag- 
ing the  ignominy  of  any  of  the  little  trifles  that  delay  us  in 
getting  ourselves  together,  being  the  cause  of  detaining  an 
expedition  in  its  morning  start  on  the  march.  Fortunately, 
the  soldiers  would  have  been  kept  in  merciful  ignorance  of 
the  cause  of  the  detention,  as  a  commanding  officer  is  not 
obliged  to  explain  why  he  orders  the  trumpeter  to  delay  the 
call  of  "  boots  and  saddles; "  but  the  chagrin  would  have  been 
just  as  great  on  the  part  of  the  "  camp-follower,"  and  it  would 
have  given  the  color  of  truth  to  the  General's  occasional  dec- 
laration that  "  it  is  easier  to  command  a  whole  division  of 
cavalry  than  one  woman."  I  made  no  protest  to  this  declara- 
tion, as  I  had  observed,  even  in  those  early  days  of  my  mar- 
ried life,  that,  in  matrimonial  experiences,  the  men  that 
make  open  statements  of  their  wrongs  in  rather  a  pompous, 
boastful  way,  are  not  the  real  sufferers.  Pride  teaches  subt- 
lety in  hiding  genuine  injuries. 

Though  I  had  a  continued  succession  of  frights,  while 
prowling  around  the  tent  before  day  hunting  my  things,  be- 
lieving them  lost  sometimes,  and  thus  being  thrown  into 
wild  stampedes,  I  escaped  the  mortification  of  detaining  the 
command.  The  Frenchman's  weariness  of  a  life  that  was 
given  over  to  buttoning  and  unbuttoning,  was  mine,  and  in 
the  short  time  between  reveille  and  breakfast,  I  lived  through 


A    MILITARY    EXECUTION.  8l 

much  perturbation  of  mind,  fearing  I  was  behind  time,  and 
devoutly  wished  that  women  who  followed  the  drum  could 
have  been  clothed  like  the  feathered  tribe,  and  ready  for  the 
wing  at  a  moment's  notice.  On  this  expedition  I  brought 
down  the  art  of  dressing  in  a  hurry  to  so  -fine  a  point  that  I 
could  take  my  bath  and  dress  entirely  in  seven  minutes.  My 
husband  timed  me  one  day,  without  my  knowledge,  and  I 
had  the  honor  of  having  this  added  to  a  very  brief  list  of  my 
attributes  as  a  soldier.  There  was  a  second  recommendation, 
which  did  duty  as  a  mild  plaudit  for  years  afterward.  When 
faithful  soldiers  are  discharged  after  their  term  of  service  has 
expired, -they  have  papers  given  them  by  the  Government, 
with  statements  of  their  ability  and  trustworthiness.  Mine 
consisted  in  the  words  usually  used  in  presenting  me  to  a 
friend.  Instead  of  referring  to  a  few  meagre  accomplish- 
ments which  my  teachers  had  struggled  to  implant,  as  is  the 
fashion  of  some  exuberant  husbands,  who  proudly  introduce 
their  wives  to  intimate  friends,  the  General  usually  said,  "  Oh, 
I  want  you  to  know  my  wife;  she  slept  four  months  in  a 
wagon." 

Perhaps  some  people  in  the  States  may  not  realize  that 
army  women  have  a  hard  time  even  in  saying  their  prayers. 
The  closet  that  the  New  Testament  tells  us  to  frequent  is 
seldom  ours,  for  rarely  does  our  frugal  Government  allow  us 
one  in  army  quarters  large  enough  to  crowd  in  our  few  gowns, 
much  less  to  "  enter  in  and  shut  the  door  ";  while  on  a  march 
like  that  in  Texas,  devotions  would  be  somewhat  disturbed 
when  one  kneeled  down  in  a  tent,  uncertain  whether  it  would 
be  on  a  centipede  or  a  horned  toad.  To  say  a  prayer  undis- 
turbed, it  was  necessary  to  wait  until  one  went  to  bed.  For- 
tunately, mine  were  brief,  since  I  had  nothing  to  ask  for,  as 
I  believed  the  best  of  everything  on  earth  had  already  been 
given  to  me.  If  I  was  tired,  and  fell  asleep  in  the  midst  of 
my  thanks,  I  could  only  hope  the  Heavenly  Father  would 
forgive  me.  I  was  often  so  exhausted  at  night,  that  it  was 
hard  to  keep  my  eyes  open  after  my  head  had  touched  the 
pillow,  especially  after  the  acquisition  of  the  blessed  feather 


82  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

pillow.  An  army  woman  I  love,  the  most  consistent  and 
honorable  of  her  sex,  was  once  so  worn  out  after  a  day  of 
danger  and  fatigue  on  a  march,  that  she  fell  asleep  while 
kneeling  beside  the  bed  in  the  room  she  occupied,  saying  her 
prayers;  and  there  she  found  herself,  still  on  her  knees,  when 
the  sun  wakened  her  in  the  morning. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MARCHES  THROUGH   PINE  FORESTS. 

FOR  exasperating  heat,  commend  me  to  a  pine  forest. 

Those  tall  and  almost  branchless  Southern  pines  were  sim- 
ply smothering.  In  the  fringed  tops  the  wind  swayed  the 
delicate  limbs,  while  not  a  breath  descended  to  us  below. 
We  fumed  and  fussed,  but  not  ill-naturedly,  when  trying  to 
find  a  spot  in  which  to  take  a  nap.  If  we  put  ourselves  in  n 
narrow  strip  of  shadow  made  by  the  slender  trunk  of  a  tree, 
remorseless  Sol  followed  persistently,  and  we  drowsily  dragged 
ourselves  to  another,  to  be  pursued  in  the  same  determined 
manner  and  stared  into  instant  wakefulness  by  the  burning 
rays. 

The  General  had  reveille  sounded  at  2  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, causing  our  scamp  to  remark,  sotto  voce,  that  if  we  were 
to  be  routed  out  in  the  night,  he  thought  he  would  eat  his 
breakfast  the  evening  before,  in  order  to  save  time.  It  was 
absolutely  necessary  to  move  before  dawn,  as  the  moment 
the  sun  came  in  sight  the  heat  was  suffocating.  It  was  so 
dark  when  we  set  out  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  reached 
the  main  road,  from  our  night's  camp,  in  safety.  My  hus- 
band tossed  me  into  the  saddle,  and  cautioned  me  to  follow 
as  close  as  my  horse  could  walk,  as  we  picked  our  way  over 
logs  and  through  ditches  or  underbrush.  Custis  Lee  *  was 
doglike  in  his  behavior  at  these  times.  He  seemed  to  aim 
to  put  his  hoof  exactly  in  the  footprint  of  the  General's  horse. 

*  My  horse  was  captured  from  a  staff-officer  of  General  Custis 
Lee  during  the  war,  purchased  by  my  husband  from  the  Govern- 
ment, and  named  for  the  Confederate  general. 

83 


84  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

In  times  of  difficulty  or  moments  of  peril,  he  evidently  con- 
sidered that  he  was  following  the  commanding  officer  rather 
than  carrying  me.  I  scarcely  blamed  him,  much  as  I  liked 
to  control  my  own  horse,  and  gladly  let  the  bridle  slacken  on 
his  neck  as  he  cautiously  picked  his  circuitous  way;  but  once 
on  the  main  road,  the  intelligent  animal  allowed  me  to  take 
control  again.  Out  of  the  dark  my  husband's  voice  came 
cheerily,  as  if  he  were  riding  in  a  path  of  sunshine:  "Are 
you  all  right  ?  "  "Give  Lee  his  head."  "  Trust  that  old  plug 
of  yours  to  bring  you  out  ship-shape."  This  insult  to  my 
splendid,  spirited,  high-stepping  F.  F.  V. — for  he  was  that 
among  horses,  as  well  as  by  birth — was  received  calmly  by'his 
owner,  especially  as  the  sagacious  animal  was  taking  better 
care  of  me  than  I  could  possibly  take  of  myself,  and  I  spent 
a  brief  time  in  calling  out  a  defense  of  him  through  the  gloom 
of  the  forest.  This  little  diversion  was  indulged  in  now  and 
again  by  the  General  to  provoke  an  argument,  and  thus  as- 
sure himself  that  I  was  safe  and  closely  following;  and  so  it 
went  on,  before  day  and  after  dark;  there  was  no  hour  or 
circumstance  out  of  which  we  did  not  extract  some  amuse- 
ment. 

The  nights,  fortunately,  were  cool;  but  such  dews  fell,  and 
it  was  so  chilly  that  we  were  obliged  to  begin  our  morning 
march  in  thick  coats,  which  were  tossed  off  as  soon  as  the 
sun  rose.  The  dews  drenched  the  bedding.  I  was  some- 
times sure  that  it  was  raining  in  the  night,  and  woke  my 
husband  to  ask  to  have  the  ambulance  curtains  of  our  bed 
lowered;  but  it  was  always  a  false  alarm;  not  a  drop  of  rain 
fell  in  that  blistering  August.  I  soon  learned  to  shut  our 
clothes  in  a  little  valise  at  night,  after  undressing  in  the  tent, 
to  ensure  dry  linen  in  the  penetrating  dampness  of  the  morn- 
ing. My  husband  lifted  me  out  of  the  wagon,  when  reveille 
sounded,  into  the  tent,  and  by  the  light  of  a  tallow  candle  I 
had  my  bath  and  got  into  my  clothes,  combing  my  hair 
straight  back,  as  it  was  too  dark  to  part  it.  Then,  to  keep 
my  shoes  from  being  soaked  with  the  wet  grass,  I  was  carried 
to  the  dining-tent,  and  lifted  upon  my  horse  afterward. 


MARCHES  THROUGH   PINE   FORESTS.  85 

One  of  my  hurried  toilets  was  stopped  short  one  morning 
by  the  loss  of  the  body  of  my  riding-habit.  In  vain  I  tossed 
our  few  traps  about  to  find  it.  and  finally  remembered  that  I 
had  exchanged  the  waist  for  a  jacket,  and  left  it  under  a  tree 
where  we  had  been  taking  a  siesta  the  day  before.  Eliza  had 
brought  in  the  blanket,  books,  and  hats,  but  alas  for  my  dress 
body!  it  was  hopelessly  lost.  In  a  pine  forest,  dark  and  thick 
with  fallen  trees,  what  good  did  one  tallow  dip  do  in  the 
hasty  search  we  made  ?  A  column  of  thousands  of  men  could 
not  be  detained  for  a  woman's  gown.  My  husband  had 
asked  me  to  braid  the  sleeves  like  his  own  velvet  jacket.  Five 
rows  of  gilt  braid  in  five  loops  made  a  dash  of  color  that  he 
liked,  which,  though  entirely  out  of  place  in  a  thoroughfare, 
was  admissible  in  our  frontier  life.  He  regretted  the  loss, 
but  insisted  on  sending  for  more  gilt  braid  as  soon  as  we 
were  out  of  the  wilderness,  and  then  began  to  laugh  to  him- 
self and  wonder  if  the  traveler  that  came  after  us,  not  know- 
ing who  had  preceded  him,  might  not  think  he  had  come 
upon  a  part  of  the  wardrobe  of  a  circus  troupe.  It  would 
have  been  rather  serious  joking  if  in  the  small  outfit  in  my 
valise  I  had  not  brought  a  jacket,  for  which,  though  it  ren- 
dered me  more  of  a  fright  than  sun  and  wind  had  made  me, 
I  still  was  very  thankful;  for  without  the  happy  accident  that 
brought  it  along,  I  should  have  been  huddled  inside  the 
closed  ambulance,  waistless  and  alone.  Our  looks  did  not 
enter  into  the  question  very  much.  All  we  thought  of  was 
how  to  keep  from  being  prostrated  by  the  heat,  and  how  to 
get  rested  after  the  march  for  the  next  day's  task. 

We  had  a  unique  character  for  a  guide.  He  was  a  citizen 
of  Texas,  who  boasted  that  not  a  road  or  a  trail  in  the  State 
was  unfamiliar  to  him.  His  mule,  Betty,  was  a  trial;  she 
walked  so  fast  that  no  one  could  keep  up  with  her,  but  not 
faster  did  she  travel  than  her  master's  tongue.  As  we  rode 
at  the  head  of  the  column,  the  sun  pouring  down  upon  our 
heads,  we  would  call  out  to  him,  "In  heaven's  name,  Still- 
man,  how  much  longer  is  this  to  keep  up?"  meaning,  When 
shall  we  find  a  creek  on  which  to  camp  ?  "  Oh,  three  miles 


86  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

further  you're  sure  to  find  a  bold-flowin'  stream,"  was  his  con- 
fident reply;  and,  sure  enough,  the  grass  began  to  look 
greener,  the  moss  hung  from  the  trees,  the  pines  were  varied 
by  beautiful  cypress,  or  some  low-branched  tree,  and  hope 
sprang  up  in  our  hearts.  The  very  horses  showed,  by  quick- 
ening step,  they  knew  what  awaited  us.  Our  scorched  and 
parched  throats  began  to  taste,  in  imagination,  what  was  our 
idea  of  a  bold-flowing  stream — it  was  cool  and  limpid,  danc- 
ing over  pebbles  on  its  merry  way.  We  found  ourselves  in 
reality  in  the  bed  of  a  dried  creek,  nothing  but  pools  of 
muddy  water,  with  a  coating  of  green  mold  on  the  surface. 
The  Custers  made  use  of  this  expression  the  rest  of  their  lives. 
If  ever  we  came  to  a  puny,  crawling  driblet  of  water,  they  said, 
"This  must  be  one  of  Stillman's  bold-flowing  streams."  On 
we  went  again,  with  that  fabricator  calling  out  from  Betty's 
back,  "  Sho'  to  find  finest  water  in  the  land  five  miles  on  !  " 
Whenever  he  had  "  been  in  these  parts  afore,  he  had  always 
found  at  all  seasons  a  roaring  torrent."  One  day  we  dragged 
through  forty  miles  of  arid  land,  and  after  passing  the  dried 
beds  of  three  streams,  the  General  was  obliged  to  camp  at 
last,  on  account  of  the  exhausted  horses,  on  a  creek  with 
pools  of  muddy,  standing  water,  which  Stillman,  coming 
back  to  the  column,  described  as  "rather  low."  This  was 
our  worst  day,  and  we  felt  the  heat  intensely,  as  we  usually 
finished  our  march  and  were  in  camp  before  the  sun  was  very 
high.  I  do  not  remember  one  good  drink  of  water  on  that 
march.  When  it  was  not  muddy  or  stagnant,  it  tasted  of 
the  roots  of  the  trees.  Some  one  had  given  my  husband 
some  claret  for  me  when  we  set  out,  and  but  for  that,  I  don't 
really  know  how  the  thirst  of  the  midsummer  days  could 
have  been  endured.  The  General  had  already  taught  him- 
self not  to  drink  between  meals,  and  I  was  trying  to  do  so. 
All  he  drank  was  his  mug  of  coffee  in  the  early  morning  and 
at  dinner,  and  cold  tea  or  coffee,  which  Eliza  kept  in  a  bot- 
tle, for  luncheon. 

The  privations  did  not  quench  the  buoyancy  of  those  gay 
young  fellows.     The  General  and    his  staff  told  stories  and 


GENERAL  CUSTER  AS   A   CADET. 


88  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

sang,  and  a  man  with  good  descriptive  powers  recounted  the 
bills  of  fare  of  good  dinners  and  choice  viands  he  had  en- 
joyed, while  we  knew  we  had  nothing  to  anticipate  in  this 
wilderness  but  army  fare.  Sometimes,  as  we  marched  along, 
almost  melted  with  heat,  and  our  throats  parched  for  water, 
the  odor  of  cucumbers  was  wafted  toward  us.  Stillman,  the 
guide,  being  called  on  for  an  explanation,  as  we  wondered  if 
we  were  nearing  a  farm,  slackened  Betty,  waited  for  us,  and 
took  down  our  hopes  by  explaining  that  it  was  a  certain  spe- 
cies of  snake,  which  infested  that  part  of  the  country.  The 
scorpions,  centipedes  and  tarantulas  were  daily  encountered. 
I  not  only  grew  more  and  more  unwilling  to  take  my  nap, 
after  the  march  was  over,  under  a  tree,  but  made  life  a  bur- 
den to  my  husband  till  he  gave  up  flinging  himself  down 
anywhere  to  sleep,  and  induced  him  to  take  his  rest  in  the 
traveling  wagon.  I  had  been  indolently  lying  outstretched 
in  a  little  grateful  shade  one  day,  when  I  was  hurriedly  roused 
by  some  one,  and  moved  to  avoid  what  seemed  to  me  a  small, 
dried  twig.  It  was  the  most  venomous  of  snakes,  called  the 
pine-tree  rattlesnake.  It  was  very  strange  that  we  all  es- 
caped being  stung  or  bitten  in  the  midst  of  thousands  of 
those  poisonous  reptiles  and  insects.  One  teamster  died 
from  a  scorpion's  bite,  and,  unfortunately,  I  saw  his  bloated, 
disfigured  body  as  we  marched  by.  It  lay  on  a  wagon,  ready 
for  burial,  without  even  a  coffin,  as  we  had  no  lumber. 

What  was  most  aggravating  were  two  pests  of  that  region, 
the  seed-tick  and  the  chigger.  The  latter  bury  their  heads 
under  the  skin,  and  when  they  are  swollen  with  blood,  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  extract  them  without  leaving  the  head 
imbedded.  This  festers,  and  the  irritation  is  almost  unbear- 
able. If  they  see  fit  to  locate  on  neck,  face  or  arms,  it  is 
possible  to  outwit  them  in  their  progress;  but  they  generally 
choose  that  unattainable  spot  between  the  shoulders,  and  the 
surgical  operation  of  taking  them  out  with  a  needle  or  knife- 
point, must  devolve  upon  some  one  else.  To  ride  thus  with 
the  skin  on  fire,  and  know  that  it  must  be  endured  till  the 
march  was  ended,  caused  some  grumbling,  but  it  did  not  last 


MARCHES   THROUGH    PINE    FORESTS.  89 

long.  The  enemy  being  routed,  out  trilled  a  song  or  laugh 
from  young  and  happy  throats.  If  we  came  to  a  sandy 
stretch  of  ground,  loud  groans  from  the  staff  began,  and  a 
cry,  "  We're  in  for  the  chiggers!  "  was  an  immediate  warning. 
We  all  grew  very  wary  of  lying  down  to  rest  in  such  a  locality, 
but  were  thankful  that  the  little  pests  were  not  venomous. 
There's  nothing  like  being  where  something  dangerous  lies 
in  wait  for  you,  to  teach  submission  to  what  is  only  an  irritat- 
ing inconvenience. 

One  of  the  small  incidents  out  of  which  we  invariably  ex- 
tracted fun,  was  our  march  at  dawn  past  the  cabins  of  the  few 
inhabitants.  On  the  open  platform,  sometimes  covered,  but 
often  with  no  roof,  which  connects  the  two  log  huts,  the 
family  are  wont  to  sleep  in  hot  weather.  There  they  lay  on 
rude  cots,  and  were  only  awakened  by  the  actual  presence  of 
the  cavalry,  of  whose  approach  they  were  unaware.  The 
children  sat  up  in  bed,  in  wide-gaping  wonder;  the  grown 
people  raised  their  heads,  but  instantly  ducked  under  the 
covers  again,  thinking  they  would  get  up  in  a  moment,  as 
soon  as  the  cavalcade  had  passed,  From  time  to  time  a  head 
was  cautiously  raised,  hoping  to  see  the  end  of  the  column. 
Then  such  a  shout  from  the  soldiers,  a  fusillade  of  the  wittiest 
comments,  such  as  only  soldiers  can  make — for  I  never  ex- 
pect to  hear  brighter  speeches  than  issue  from  a  marching 
column — and  down  went  the  venturesome  head,  compelled 
to  obey  an  unspoken  military  mandate  and  remain  "under 
cover."  There  these  people  lay  till  the  sun  was  scorching 
them,  imprisoned  under  their  bed-clothes  by  modesty,  while 
the  several  thousand  men  filed  by,  two  by  two,  and  the  long 
wagon-train  in  the  rear  had  passed  the  house. 

There  came  a  day  when  I  could  not  laugh  and  joke  with 
the  rest.  I  was  mortified  to  find  myself  ill — I,  who  had  been 
pluming  myself  on  being  such  a  good  campaigner,  my  desire 
to  keep  well  being  heightened  by  overhearing  the  General 
boasting  to  Tom  that  "  nothing  makes  the  old  lady  ill."  We 
did  not  know  that  sleeping  in  the  sun  in  that  climate  brings 
on  a  chill,  and  I  had  been  frightened  away  from  the  snake- 


go  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

infested  ground,  where  there  might  be  shade,  to  the  wagon 
for  my  afternoon  sleep.  It  was  embarrassing  in  the  extreme. 
I  could  neither  be  sent  back,  nor  remain  in  that  wilderness, 
which  was  infested  by  guerrillas.  The  surgeon  compelled  me 
to  lie  down  on  the  march.  It  was  very  lonely,  for  I  missed 
the  laughter  and  story  at  the  head  of  the  column,  which  had 
lightened  the  privations  of  the  journey.  The  soil  was  so 
shallow  that  the  wagon  was  kept  on  a  continual  joggle  by 
the  roots  of  the  trees  over  which  we  passed.  This  uneven- 
ness  was  of  course  not  noticeable  on  horseback,  but  now  it 
was  painfully  so  at  every  revolution  of  the  wheels.  The  Gen- 
eral and  Tom  came  back  to  comfort  me  every  now  and  again, 
while  Eliza  "  mammied  "  and  nursed  me,  and  rode  in  the 
seat  by  the  driver.  It  was  "break-bone  fever."  No  one 
knowing  about  it  can  read  these  words  and  not  feel  a  shud- 
der. I  believe  it  is  not  dangerous,  but  the  patient  is  intro- 
duced, in  the  most  painful  manner,  to  every  bone  in  his  body. 
Incredible  as  it  used  to  seem  when,  in  school,  we  repeated 
the  number  of  bones,  it  now  became  no  longer  a  wonder, 
and  the  only  marvel  was,  how  some  of  the  smallest  on  the 
list  could  contain  so  large  an  ache.  I  used  to  lie  and  specu- 
late how  one  slender  woman  could  possibly  conceal  so  many 
bones  under  the  skin.  Anatomy  had  been  on  the  list  of 
hated  books  in  school;  but  I  began  then  to  study  it  from  life, 
in  a  manner  that  made  it  likely  to  be  remembered.  The  sur- 
geon, as  is  the  custom  of  the  admirable  men  of  that  profes- 
sion in  the  army,  paid  me  the  strictest  attention,  and  I  swal- 
lowed quinine,  it  seemed  to  me,  by  the  spoonful.  As  I  had 
never  taken  any  medicine  to  speak  of,  it  did  its  duty  quickly, 
and  in  a  few  days  I  was  lifted  into  the  saddle,  tottering  and 
light-headed,  but  partly  relieved  from  the  pain,  and  very  glad  to 
get  back  to  our  military  family,  who  welcomed  me  so  warmly 
that  I  was  aglow  with  gratitude.  I  wished  to  ignore  the  fact 
that  I  had  fallen  by  the  way,  and  was  kept  in  lively  fear  that 
they  would  all  vote  me  a  bother.  After  that,  my  husband 
had  the  soldiers  who  were  detailed  for  duty  at  headquarters, 
when  they  cut  the  wood  for  camp-fires,  build  a  rough  shade 


MARCHES  THROUGH   PINE   FORESTS.  91 

of  pine  branches  over  the  wagon,  when  we  reached  camp. 
Even  that  troubled  me,  though  the  kind-hearted  fellows  did 
not  seem  to  mind  it;  but  the  General  quieted  me  by  explain- 
ing that  the  men,  being  excused  from  night  duty  as  sentinels, 
would  not  mind  building  the  shade  as  much  as  losing  their 
sleep,  and,  besides,  we  were  soon  afterward  out  of  the  pine 
forest  and  on  the  prairie. 

Our  officers  suffered  dreadfully  on  that  march,  though  they 
made  light  of  it,  and  were  soon  merry  after  a  trial  or  hard- 
ship was  over.  The  drenching  dews  chilled  the  air  that  was 
encountered  just  at  daybreak.  They  were  then  plunged  into 
a  steam  bath  from  the  overpowering  sun,  and  the  impure 
water  told  frightfully  on  their  health.  I  have  seen  them  turn 
pale  and  almost  reel  in  the  saddle,  as  we  marched  on.  They 
kept  quinine  in  their  vest-pockets,  and  horrified  me  by  taking 
large  quantities  at  any  hour  when  they  began  to  feel  a  chill 
coming  on,  or  were  especially  faint.  Our  brother  Tom  did 
not  become  quite  strong,  after  his  attack  of  fever,  for  a  long 
time,  and  had  inflammatory  rheumatism  at  Fort  Riley  a  year 
or  more  afterward,  which  the  surgeons  attributed  to  his  Texas 
exposure.  I  used  to  see  the  haggard  face  of  the  adjutant- 
general,  Colonel  Jacob  Greene,  grow  drawn  and  gray  with 
the  inward  fever  that  filled  his  veins  and  racked  his  bones 
with  pain.  The  very  hue  of  his  skin  comes  back  to  me  after 
all  these  years,  for  we  grieved  over  his  suffering,  as  we  had 
all  just  welcomed  him  back  from  the  starvation  of  Libby 
Prison. 

I  rode  in  their  midst,  month  after  month,  ever  revolving  in 
my  mind  the  question,  whence  came  the  inexhaustible  supply 
of  pluck  that  seemed  at  their  command,  to  meet  all  trials  and 
privations,  just  as  their  unfaltering  courage  had  enabled  them 
to  go  through  the  battles  of  the  war?  And  yet,  how  much 
harder  it  was  to  face  such  trials,  unsupported  by  the  excite- 
ment of  the  trumpet-call  and  the  charge.  There  was  no 
wild  clamor  of  war  to  enable  them  to  forget  the  absence  of 
the  commonest  necessities  of  existence.  In  Texas  and  Kan- 
sas, the  life  was  often  for  months  unattended  by  excitement 


92  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

of  any  description.  It  was  only  to  be  endured  by  a  grim 
shutting  of  the  teeth,  and  an  iron  will.  The  mother  of  one 
of  the  fallen  heroes  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  who  passed  un- 
complainingly through  the  privations  of  the  frontier,  and 
gave  up  his  life  at  last,  writes  to  me  in  a  recent  letter  that 
she  considers  "those  late  experiences  of  hardship  and  suffer- 
ing, so  gallantly  borne,  by  far  the  most  interesting  of  General 
Custer's  life,  and  the  least  known."  For  my  part  I  was  con- 
stantly mystified  as  I  considered  how  our  officers,  coming 
from  all  the  wild  enthusiasm  of  their  Virginia  life,  could,  as 
they  expressed  it,  "buckle  down"  to  the  dull,  exhausting 
days  of  a  monotonous  march. 

Young  as  I  then  was,  I  thought  that  to  endure,  to  fight  for 
and  inflexibly  pursue  a  purpose  or  general  principle  like 
patriotism,  seemed  to  require  far  more  patience  and  courage 
than  when  it  is  individualized.  I  did  not  venture  to  put  my 
thoughts  into  words,  for  two  reasons  :  I  was  too  wary  to  let 
them  think  I  acknowledged  there  were  hardships,  lest  they 
might  think  I  repented  having  come  ;  for  I  knew  then,  as  I 
know  now,  but  feared  they  did  not,  that  I  would  go  through 
it  all  a  hundred  times  over,  if  inspired  by  the  reasons  that 
actuated  me.  In  the  second  place,  I  had  already  found  what 
a  habit  it  is  to  ridicule  and  make  light  of  misfortune  or  vicissi- 
tude. It  cut  me  to  the  quick  at  first,  and  I  thought  the  offi- 
cers and  soldiers  lacking  in  sympathy.  But  I  learned  to 
know  what  splendid,  loyal  friends  they  really  were,  if  mis- 
fortune came  and  help  was  needed  ;  how  they  denied  them- 
selves to  loan  money,  if  it  is  the  financial  difficulty  of  a 
friend  ;  how  they  nursed  one  another  in  illness  or  accident ; 
how  they  quietly  fought  the  battles  of  the  absent ;  and  one 
occasion  I  remember,  that  an  officer,  being  ill,  was  unable  to 
help  himself  when  a  soldier  behaved  in  a  most  insolent  man- 
ner, and  his  brother  officer  knocked  him  down,  but  immedi- 
ately apologized  to  the  captain  for  taking  the  matter  out  of 
his  hands.  A  hundred  ways  of  showing  the  most  unswerving 
fidelity  taught  me,  as  years  went  on,  to  submit  to  what  I  still 
think  the  deplorable  habit,  if  not  of  ridicule,  of  suppressed 


MARCHES   THROUGH   PINE   FORESTS.  93 

sympathy.  I  used  to  think  that  even  if  a  misfortune  was  not 
serious,  it  ought  to  be  recognized,  and  none  were  afraid  of 
showing  that  they  possessed  truly  tender,  gentle,  sympathetic 
natures,  with  me  or  with  any  woman  that  came  among  them. 
The  rivers,  and  sven  the  small  streams,  in  Texas  have  high 
banks.  It  is  a  land  of  freshets,  and  the  most  innocent  little 
rill  can  rise  to  a  roaring  torrent  in  no  time.  Anticipating 
these  crossings,  we  had  in  our  train  a  pontoon  bridge.  We 
had  to  make  long  halts  while  this  bridge  was  being  laid,  and 
then,  oh  !  the  getting  down  to  it.  If  the  sun  was  high,  and 
the  surgeon  had  consigned  me  to  the  traveling-wagon,  I 
looked  down  the  deep  gulley  with  more  than  inward  quaking. 
My  trembling  hands  clutched  wildly  at  the  seat  and  my  head 
was  out  at  the  side  to  see  my  husband's  face,  as  he  directed 
the  descent,  cautioned  the  driver,  and  encouraged  me.  The 
brake  was  frequently  not  enough,  and  the  soldiers  had  to 
man  the  wheels,  for  the  soil  was  wet  and  slippery  from  the 
constant  passing  of  the  pioneer  force,  who  had  laid  the 
bridge.  The  heavy  wagons,  carrying  the  boats  and  lumber 
for  the  bridge,  had  made  the  side-hill  a  difficult  bit  of  ground 
to  traverse.  The  four  faithful  mules  apparently  sat  down 
and  slid  to  the  water's  edge  ;  but  the  driver,  so  patient  with 
my  quiet  imploring  to  go  slowly,  kept  his  strong  foot  on  the 
brake  and  knotted  the  reins  in  his  powerful  hands.  I  blessed 
him  for  his  caution,  and  then  at  every  turn  of  the  wheel  I 
implored  him  again  to  be  careful.  Finally,  when  I  poured 
out  my  thanks  at  the  safe  transit,  the  color  mounted  in  his 
brown  face,  as  if  he  had  led  a  successful  charge.  In  talking 
at  night  to  Eliza,  of  my  tremors  as  we  plunged  down  the 
bank  and  were  bounced  upon  the  pontoon,  which  descended 
to  the  water's  edge  under  the  sudden  rush  with  which  we 
came,  I  added  my  praise  of  the  driver's  skill,  which  she  care- 
fully repeated  as  she  slipped  him,  on  the  sly,  the  mug  of  cof- 
fee and  hot  biscuits  with  which  she  invariably  rewarded  merit, 
whether  in  officers  or  men.  When  I  could,  I  made  these 
descents  on  horseback,  and  climbed  up  the  opposite  bank 
with  my  hands  wound  in  Custis  Lee's  abundant  mane. 


94  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Eliza,  in  spite  of  her  constant  lookout  for  some  variety  for 
our  table,  could  seldom  find  any  vegetables,  even  at  the  huts 
we  passed.  Corn  pone  and  chine  were  the  principal  food  of 
these  shiftless  citizens,  butternut-colored  in  clothing  and 
complexion,  indifferent  alike  to  food  and  to  drink.  At  the 
Sabine  River  the  water  was  somewhat  clearer.  The  soldiers, 
leading  their  horses,  crossed  carefully,  as  it  was  dangerous  to 
stop  here,  lest  the  weight  should  carry  the  bridge  under  ;  but 
they  are  too  quick-witted  not  to  watch  every  chance  to  pro- 
cure a  comfort,  and  they  tied  strings  to  their  canteens  and 
dragged  them  beside  the  bridge,  getting,  even  in  that  short 
progress,  one  tolerably  good  drink.  The  wagon-train  was 
of  course  a  long  time  in  crossing,  and  dinner  looked  dubious 
to  our  staff.  Our  faithful  Eliza,  as  we  talk  over  that  march, 
will  prove  in  her  own  language,  better  than  I  can  portray, 
how  she  constantly  bore  our  comfort  on  her  mind: 

"  Miss  Libbie,  do  you  mind,  after  we  crossed  the  Sabine 
River,  we  went  into  camp?  Well,  we  hadn't  much  supplies, 
and  the  wagons  wasn't  up  ;  so,  as  I  was  a-waitin'  for  you  all, 
I  says  to  the  boys,  '  Now,  you  make  a  fire,  and  I'll  go  a-fishinV 
The  first  thing,  I  got  a  fish — well,  as  long  as  my  arm.  It  was 
big,  and  jumped  so  it  scart  me,  and  I  let  the  line  go,  but  one 
of  the  men  caught  hold  and  jumped  for  me  and  I  had  him, 
and  went  to  work  on  him  right  away.  I  cleaned  him,  salted 
him,  rolled  him  in  flour,  and  fried  him  ;  and,  Miss  Libbie,  we 
had  a  nice  platter  of  fish,  and  the  General  was  just  delighted 
when  he  came  up,  and  he  was  surprised,  too,  and  he  found 
his  dinner — for  I  had  some  cold  biscuit  and  a  bottle  of  tea  in 
the  lunch-box — while  the  rest  was  a-waitin'  for  the  supplies  to 
come  up.  For  while  all  the  rest  was  a-waitin',  I  went  fishin', 
mind  you  !" 


CHAPTER  V. 

OUT   OF  THE  WILDERNESS. 

As  we  came  out  of  the  forest,  the  country  improved  some- 
what. The  farm-houses  began  to  show  a  little  look  of  com- 
fort, and  it  occurred  to  us  that  we  might  now  vary  the 
monotony  of  our  fare  by  marketing.  My  husband  and  I 
sometimes  rode  on  in  advance  of  the  command,  and  ap- 
proached the  houses  with  our  best  manners,  soliciting  the 
privilege  of  buying  butter  and  eggs.  The  farmer's  wife  was 
taking  her  first  look  at  Yankees,  but  she  found  that  we 
neither  wore  horns  nor  were  cloven-footed,  and  she  even  so 
far  unbent  as  to  apologize  for  not  having  butter,  adding, 
what  seemed  then  so  flimsy  an  excuse,  that  "I  don't  make 
more  than  enough  butter  for  our  own  use,  as  we  are  only 
milking  seven  cows  now."  We  had  yet  to  learn  that  what 
makes  a  respectable  dairy  at  home  was  nothing  in  a  country 
where  the  cows  give  a  cupful  of  milk  and  all  run  to  horns. 
It  was  a  great  relief  to  get  out  of  the  wilderness,  but  though 
our  hardships  were  great,  I  do  not  want  them  to  appear  to 
outnumber  the  pleasures.  The  absence  of  creature  comforts 
is  easily  itemized.  We  are  either  too  warm  or  too  cold,  we 
sleep  uncomfortably,  we  have  poor  food,  we  are  wet  by 
storms,  we  are  made  ill  by  exposure.  Happiness  cannot  be 
itemized  so  readily  ;  it  is  hard  to  define  what  goes  to  round 
and  complete  a  perfect  day.  We  remember  hours  of  pleasure 
as  bathed  in  a  mist  that  blends  all  shades  into  a  roseate  hue  ; 
but  it  is  impossible  to  take  one  tint  from  colors  so  perfectly 
mingled,  and  define  how  it  adds  to  the  perfect  whole. 

The  days  now  seemed  to  grow  shorter  and  brighter.  In 
place  of  the  monotonous  pines,  we  had  magnolia,  mulberry, 

95 


96  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

pecan,  persimmon  and  live-oak,  as  well  as  many  of  our  own 
Northern  trees,  that  grew  along  the  streams.  The  cactus, 
often  four  feet  high,  was  covered  with  rich  red  blossoms,  and 
made  spots  of  gorgeous  color  in  the  prairie  grass.  I  had  not 
then  seen  the  enormous  cacti  of  old  Mexico,  and  four  feet  of 
that  plant  seemed  immense,  as  at  home  we  labored  to  get 
one  to  grow  six  inches.  The  wild-flowers  were  charming  in 
color,  variety  and  luxuriance.  The  air,  even  then  beginning 
to  taste  of  the  sea,  blew  softly  about  us.  Stillman  no  longer 
blackened  his  soul  with  prophecies  about  the  streams  on 
which  we  nightly  pitched  our  tents.  The  water  did  flow  in 
them,  and  though  they  were  then  low,  so  that  the  thousands 
of  horses  were  scattered  far  up  and  down  when  watering-time 
came,  the  green  scum  of  sluggish  pools  was  a  thing  of  the  past. 
A  few  days  before  we  reached  what  was  to  be  a  permanent 
camp,  a  staff-officer  rode  out  to  meet  us,  and  brought  some 
mail.  It  was  a  strange  sensation  to  feel  ourselves  restored 
by  these  letters  to  the  outside  world.  General  Custer  re- 
ceived a  great  surprise.  He  was  brevetted  major,  lieutenant- 
colonel  and  brigadier-general  in  the  regular  army.  The  offi- 
cers went  off  one  side  to  read  their  sweethearts'  letters  ;  and 
some  of  our  number  renewed  their  youth,  sacrificed  in  that 
dreadful  forest  to  fever,  when  they  read  the  good  news  of 
the  coming  of  their  wives  by  sea.  At  Hempstead  we  halted, 
and  the  General  made  a  permanent  camp,  in  order  to  recruit 
men  and  horses  after  their  exhausting  march.  Here  General 
Sheridan  and  some  of  his  staff  came,  by  way  of  Galveston, 
and  brought  with  them  our  father  Custer,  whom  the  General 
had  sent  for  to  pay  us  a  visit.  General  Sheridan  expressed 
great  pleasure  at  the  appearance  of  the  men  and  horses,  and 
heard  with  relief  and  satisfaction  of  the  orderly  manner  in 
which  they  had  marched  through  the  enemy's  country,  of 
how  few  horses  had  perished  from  the  heat,  and  how  seldom 
sunstroke  had  occurred.  He  commended  the  General— as 
he  knew  how  to  do  so  splendidly — and  placed  him  in  com- 
mand of  all  the  cavalry  in  the  State.  Our  own  Division  then 
numbered  four  thousand  men. 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  97 

I  was  again  mortified  to  have  to  be  compelled  to  lie  down 
for  a  day  or  two,  as  so  many  weeks  in  the  saddle  had  brought 
me  to  the  first  discovery  of  a  spinal  column.  It  was  nothing 
but  sheer  fatigue,  for  I  was  perfectly  well,  and  could  laugh 
and  talk  with  the  rest,  though  not  quite  equal  to  the  effort 
of  sitting  upright,  especially  as  we  had  nothing  but  camp- 
stools,  on  which  it  is  impossible  to  rest.  Indisposition,  or 
even  actual  illness,  has  less  terrors  in  army  life  than  in  the 
States.  We  were  not  condemned  to  a  gloomy  upper  cham- 
ber in  a  house,  and  shut  in  alone  with  a  nurse  whom  we  had 
never  before  seen.  In  our  old  life,  ailing  people  lay  on  a 
lounge  in  the  midst  of  all  the  garrison,  who  were  coming  and 
going  a  dozen  times  a  day,  asking,  "  How  does  it  go  now  ?  " 
and  if  you  had  studied  up  anything  that  they  could  do  for 
you?  I  principally  recall  being  laid  up  by  fatigue,  because 
of  the  impetuous  assault  that  my  vehement  father  Custer 
made  on  his  son  for  allowing  me  to  share  the  discomforts; 
and  when  I  defended  my  husband  by  explaining  how  I  had 
insisted  upon  coming,  he  only  replied,  "  Can't  help  it  if  you 
did.  Armstrong,  you  had  no  right  to  put  her  through  such 
a  jaunt."  It  was  amusing  to  see  the  old  man's  horror  when 
our  staff  told  him  what  we  had  been  through.  It  would  have 
appeared  that  I  was  his  own  daughter,  and  the  General  a 
son-in-law,  by  the  manner  in  which  he  renewed  his  attack 
on  the  innocent  man.  Several  years  afterward  it  cost  Lieu- 
tenant James  Calhoun  long  pleading,  and  a  probationary 
state  of  two  years,  before  the  old  man  would  consent  to  his 
taking  his  daughter  Margaret  into  the  army.  He  shook  his 
gray  head  determinedly,  and  said,  "Oh,  no;  you  don't  get 
me  to  say  she  shall  go  through  what  Libbie  has."  But  the 
old  gentleman  was  soon  too  busy  with  his  own  affairs,  de- 
fending himself  against  not  only  the  ingenious  attacks  of  his 
two  incorrigible  boys,  but  the  staff,  some  of  whom  had 
known  him  in  Monroe.  His  eyes  twinkled,  and  his  face 
wrinkled  itself  into  comical  smiles,  as  he  came  every  morn- 
ing with  fresh  tales  of  what  a  "  night  of  it  he  had  put  in." 
He  had  a  collection  of  mild  vituperations  for  the  boys,  gath- 


Q8  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

ered  from  Maryland,  Ohio  and  Michigan,  where  he  had 
lived,  which,  extensive  as  the  list  was,  did  not,  in  my  mind, 
half  meet  the  situation. 

The  stream  on  which  we  had  encamped  was  wide  and 
deep,  and  had  a  current.  Our  tents  were  on  the  bank,  which 
gently  sloped  to  the  water.  We  had  one  open  at  both  ends, 
over  which  was  built  a  shade  of  pine  boughs,  which  was  ex- 
tended in  front  far  enough  for  a  porch.  Some  lumber  from 
a  pontoon  bridge  was  made  into  the  unusual  luxury  of  a  floor. 
My  husband  still  indulged  my  desire  to  have  the  traveling- 
wagon  at  the  rear,  so  that  I  might  take  up  a  safe  position  at 
night,  when  sleep  interrupted  my  vigils  over  the  insects  and 
reptiles  that  were  about  us  constantly.  The  cook-tent,  with 
another  shade  over  it,  was  near  us,  where  Eliza  flourished  a 
skillet  as  usual.  The  staff  were  at  some  distance  down  the 
bank,  while  the  Division  was  stretched  along  the  stream, 
having,  at  last,  plenty  of  water.  Beyond  us,  fifty  miles  of 
prairie  stretched  out  to  the  sea.  We  encamped  on  an  unused 
part  of  the  plantation  of  the  oldest  resident  of  Texas,  who 
came  forth  with  a  welcome  and  offers  of  hospitality,  which 
we  declined,  as  our  camp  was  comfortable.  His  wife  sent  me 
over  a  few  things  to  make  our  tent  habitable,  as  I  suppose 
her  husband  told  her  that  our  furniture  consisted  of  a  bucket 
and  two  camp-stools.  There's  no  denying  that  I  sank  down 
into  one  of  the  chairs,  which  had  a  back,  with  a  sense  of  en- 
joyment of  what  seemed  to  me  the  greatest  luxury  I  had  ever 
known.  The  milk,  vegetables,  roast  of  mutton,  jelly,  and 
other  things  which  she  also  sent,  were  not  enough  to  tempt 
me  out  of  the  delightful  hollow,  from  which  I  thought  I  never 
could  emerge  again.  But  military  despots  pick  up  their 
families  and  carry  them  out  to  their  dinner,  if  they  refuse  to 
walk.  The  new  neighbors  offered  us  a  room  with  them,  but 
the  General  never  left  his  men,  and  it  is  superfluous  to  say 
that  I  thought  our  clean,  new  hospital  tent,  as  large  again 
as  a  wall-tent,  and  much  higher,  was  palatial  after  the  trials 
of  the  pine  forests. 

The  old  neighbor  continued  his  kindness,  which  was  re- 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  99 

turned  by  sending  him  game  after  the  General's  hunt,  and 
protecting  his  estate.  He  had  owned  130  slaves,  with  forty 
in  his  house.  He  gave  us  dogs  and  sent  us  vegetables,  and 
spent  many  hours  under  our  shade.  He  had  lived  under 
eight  governments  in  his  Texas  experience,  and,  possibly,  the 
habit  of  "speeding the  parting  and  welcoming  the  coming 
guest "  had  something  to  do  with  his  hospitality.  I  did  not 
realize  how  Texas  had  been  tossed  about  in  a  game  of  battle- 
door  and  shuttle-cock  till  he  told  me  of  his  life  under  Mexi- 
can rule,  the  Confederacy,  and  the  United  States. 

I  find  mention,  in  an  old  letter  to  my  parents,  of  a  great 
luxury  that  here  appeared,  and  quote  the  words  of  the  exu- 
berant and  much-underlined  girl  missive:  "  I  rejoice  to  tell 
you  that  I  am  the  happy  possessor  of  a  mattress.  It  is  made 
of  the  moss  which  festoons  the  branches  of  all  the  trees  at 
the  South.  The  moss  is  prepared  by  boiling  it,  then  burying 
it  in  the  ground  for  a  long  time,  till  only  the  small  thread 
inside  is  left,  and  this  looks  like  horse-hair.  An  old  darkey 
furnished  the  moss  for  three  dollars,  and  the  whole  thing 
only  cost  seven  dollars — very  cheap  for  this  country.  We  are 
living  finely  now;  we  get  plenty  of  eggs,  butter,  lard  and 
chickens.  Eliza  cooks  better  than  ever,  by  a  few  logs,  with 
camp-kettles  and  stew-pans.  She  has  been  washing  this  past 
week,  and  drying  her  things  on  a  line  tied  to  the  tent-poles 
and  on  bushes,  and  ironing  on  the  ground,  with  her  ironing- 
sheet  held  down  by  a  stone  on  each  corner.  To-day  we  are 
dressed  in  white.  She  invites  us  to  mark  Sunday  by  the  lux- 
ury of  wearing  white.  Her  '  ole  miss  used  to.'  We  are  reg- 
ulated by  the  doings  of  that  '  ole  miss,'  and  I  am  glad  that 
among  the  characteristics  of  my  venerable  predecessor, 
which  we  are  expected  to  follow,  wearing  white  gowns  is  in- 
cluded." 

Eliza,  sitting  here  beside  me  to-day,  has  just  reminded  me 
of  that  week,  as  it  was  marked  in  her  memory  by  a  catastro- 
phe. Eliza's  misfortunes  were  usually  within  the  confines  of 
domestic  routine.  I  quote  her  words:  "  It  was  on  the  Gros 
Creek,  Miss  Libbie,  that  I  had  out  that  big  wash,  and  all  your 


100  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

lace-trimmed  things,  and  all  the  Ginnel's  white  linen  pants 
and  coats.  I  didn't  knownothin'  'bout  the  high  winds  then, 
but  I  ain't  like  to  forget  'em  ever  again.  The  first  thing  I 
I  knew,  the  line  was  jest  lifted  up,  and  the  clothes  jest  spread 
in  every  direction,  and  I  jest  stood  still  and  looked  at  'em, 
and  I  says,  '  Is  this  Texas  ?  How  long  am  I  to  contend  with 
this  ?  '  [With  hands  uplifted  and  a  camp-meeting  roll  in  her 
eyes.]  But  I  had  to  go  to  work  and  pick  'em  all  up.  Some 
fell  in  the  sand,  and  some  on  the  grass.  I  gathered  'em  all, 
with  the  sun  boiling  down  hot  enough  to  cook  an  egg. 
While  I  was  a-pickin'  'em  up,  the  Ginnel  was  a-standin'  in 
the  tent  entrance,  wipin'  down  his  moustache,  like  he  did 
when  he  didn't  want  us  to  see  him  laughin'.  Well,  Miss 
Libbie,  I  was  that  mad  when  he  hollered  out  to  me,  '  Well, 
Eliza,  you've  got  a  spread-eagle  thar.'  Oh,  I  was  so  mad  and 
hot,  but  he  jest  bust  right  out  laughin'.  But  there  wasn't 
anything  to  do  but  rinse  and  hang  'em  up  again." 

We  had  been  in  camp  but  a  short  time  when  the  daughter 
of  the  newly  appointed  collector  of  the  port  came  from  their 
plantation  near  to  see  us.  She  invited  me  to  make  my  home 
with  them  while  we  remained,  but  I  was  quite  sure  there  was 
nothing  on  earth  equal  to  bur  camp.  The  girl's  father  had 
been  a  Union  man  during  the  war,  and  was  hopelessly  inva- 
lided by  a  long  political  imprisonment.  I  remember  nothing 
bitter,  or  even  gloomy,  about  that  hospitable,  delightful  fam- 
ily. The  young  girl's  visit  was  the  precursor  of  many  more, 
and  our  young  officers  were  in  clover.  There  were  three 
young  women  in  the  family,  and  they  came  to  our  camp  and 
rode  and  drove  with  us,  while  we  made  our  first  acquaintance 
with  Southern  home  life.  The  house  was  always  full  of 
guests.  The  large  dining-table  was  not  long  enough,  how- 
ever, unless  placed  diagonally  across  the  dining-room,  and  it 
was  sometimes  laid  three  times  before  all  had  dined.  The 
upper  part  of  the  house  was  divided  i  by  a  hall  running  the 
length  of  the  house.  On  one  side  the  women  and  their  guests 
— usually  a  lot  of  rollicking  girls — were  quartered,  while  the 
men  visitors  had  rooms  opposite;  and  then  I  first  saw  the 


OUT   OF   THE    WILDERNESS.  IOI 

manner  in  which  a  Southern  gallant  comes  as  a  suitor  or  a 
friend.  He  rode  up  to  the  house  with  his  servant  on  anoth- 
er horse,  carrying  a  portmanteau.  They  came  to  stay  several 
weeks.  I  wondered  that  there  was  ever  an  uncongenial  mar- 
riage in  the  South,  when  a  man  had  such  a  chance  to  see  his 
sweetheart.  This  was  one  of  the  usages  of  the  country  that 
our  Northern  men  adopted  when  they  could  get  leave  to  be 
absent  from  camp,  and  delightful  visits  we  all  had. 

It  seemed  a  great  privilege  to  be  again  with  women,  after 
the  long  season  in  which  I  had  only  Eliza  to  represent  the 
sex.  But  I  lost  my  presence  of  mind  when  I  went  into  a 
room  for  the  first  time  and  caught  a  glimpse  of  myself  in  a 
mirror.  The  only  glass  I  had  brought  from  the  East  was 
broken  early  in  the  march,  and  I  had  made  my  toilet  by  feel- 
ing. The  shock  of  the  apparition  comes  back  to  me  afresh, 
and  the  memory  is  emphasized  by  my  fastidious  mother's 
horror  when  she  saw  me  afterward.  I  had  nothing  but  a  nar- 
row-brimmed hat  with  which  to  contend  against  a  Texas  sun. 
My  face  was  almost  parboiled  and  swollen  with  sunburn, 
while  my  hair  was  faded  and  rough.  Of  course,  when  I 
caught  the  first  glimpse  of  myself  in  the  glass  I  instantly  hur- 
ried to  the  General  and  Tom,  and  cried  out  indignantly, 
"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  how  horridly  I  looked  ?  " — the  in- 
consistent woman  in  me  forgetting  that  it  would  not  have 
made  my  ugliness  any  easier  to  endure.  My  husband  hung 
his  head  in  assumed  humility  when  he  returned  me  to  my 
mother,  six  months  later,  my  complexion  seemingly  hope- 
lessly thickened  and  darkened;  for,  though  happily  it  im- 
proved after  living  in  a  house,  it  never  again  looked  as  it  did 
before  the  Texas  life.  My  indignant  mother  looked  as  if  her 
son-in-law  was  guilty  of  an  unpardonable  crime.  I  told  her, 
rather  flippantly,  that  it  had  been  offered  up  on  the  altar  of 
my  country,  and  she  ought  to  be  glad  to  have  so  patriotic  a 
family;  but  she  withered  the  General  with  a  look  that  spoke 
volumes.  He  took  the  first  opportunity  to  whisper  conde- 
scendingly that,  though  my  mother  was  ready  to  disown  me, 
and  quite  prepared  to  annihilate  him,  he  would  endeavor  not 


IO2  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

to  cast  me  off,  if  I  was  black,  and  would  try  to  like  me,  "  not- 
withstanding all." 

The  planters  about  the  country  began  to  seek  out  the  Gen- 
eral, and  invite  him  to  go  hunting;  and,  as  there  was  but  lit- 
tle to  do  while  the  command  was  recruiting  from  the  march, 
he  took  his  father  and  the  staff  and  went  to  the  different 
plantations  where  the  meet  was  planned.  The  start  was 
made  long  before  day,  and  breakfast  was  served  at  the  house 
where  the  hunters  assembled,  dinner  being  enjoyed  at  the 
same  hospitable  board  on  the  return  at  night.  Each  planter 
brought  his  hounds,  and  I  remember  the  General's  delight 
at  his  first  sight  of  the  different  packs — thirty-seven  dogs  in 
all — and  his  enthusiasm  at  finding  that  every  dog  responded 
to  his  master's  horn.  He  thereupon  purchased  a  horn,  and 
practiced  in  camp  until  he  nearly  split  his  cheeks  in  twain, 
not  to  mention  the  spasms  into  which  we  were  driven;  for 
his  five  hounds,  presents  from  the  farmers,  ranged  themselves 
in  an  admiring  and  sympathetic  semicircle,  accompanying  all 
his  practicing  by  tuning  their  voices  until  they  reached  the 
same  key.  I  had  no  idea  it  was  such  a  difficult  thing  to 
learn  to  sound  notes  on  a  horn.  When  we  begged  off  some- 
times from  the  impromptu  serenades  of  the  hunter  and  his 
dogs,  the  answer  was,  "  I  am  obliged  to  practice,  for  if  any- 
one thinks  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  blow  on  a  horn,  just  let  him 
try  it."  Of  course  Tom  caught  the  fever,  and  came  in  one 
day  with  the  polished  horn  of  a  Texas  steer  ready  for  action. 
The  two  were  impervious  to  ridicule.  No  detailed  description 
of  their  red,  distended  cheeks,  bulging  eyes,  bent  and  labo- 
rious forms,  as  they  struggled,  suspended  the  operation. 
The  early  stages  of  this  horn  music  gave  little  idea  of  the  gay 
picture  of  these  debonair  and  spirited  athletes,  as  they  after- 
ward appeared.  When  their  musical  education  was  com- 
pleted, they  were  wont  to  leap  into  the  saddle,  lift  the  horn 
in  unconscious  grace  to  their  lips,  curbing  their  excited  and 
rearing  horses  with  the  free  hand,  and  dash  away  amidst  the 
frantic  leaping,  barking  and  joyous  demonstration  of  their 
dogs. 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  103 

At  the  first  hunt,  when  one  of  our  number  killed  a  deer, 
the  farmers  made  known  to  our  officers,  on  the  sly,  the  old 
established  custom  of  the  chase.  While  Captain  Lyon  stood 
over  his  game,  volubly  narrating,  in  excited  tones,^how  the 
shot  had  been  sent  and  where  it  had  entered,  a  signal,  which 
he  was  too  absorbed  to  notice,  was  given,  and  the  crowd 
rushed  upon  him  and  so  plastered  him  with  blood  from  the 
deer  that  scarcely  an  inch  of  his  hair,  hands  and  face  was 
spared,  while  his  garments  were  red  from  neck  to  toes. 
After  this  baptism  of  gore,  they  dragged  him  to  our  tent  on 
their  return,  to  exhibit  him,  and  it  was  well  that  he  was  one 
of  the  finest-hearted  fellows  in  the  world,  for  day  and  night 
these  pestering  fellows  kept  up  the  joke.  Notwithstanding 
he  had  been  subjected  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  which 
demands  that  the  blood  of  the  first  deer  killed  in  the  chase 
shall  anoint  the  hunter,  he  had  glory  enough  through  his 
success  to  enable  him  to  submit  to  the  penalty. 

Tom  also  shot  a  deer  that  day,  but  his  glory  was  dimmed  by 
a  misfortune,  of  which  he  seemed  fated  never  to  hear  the  last. 
The  custom  was  to  place  one  or  two  men  at  stated  intervals 
in  different  parts  of  the  country  where  the  deer  were  pretty 
sure  to  run,  and  Tom  was  on  stand  watching  through  the 
woods  in  the  direction  from  which  the  sound  of  the  dogs 
came.  As  the  deer  bounded  toward  him,  He  was  so  excited 
that  when  he  fired,  the  shot  went  harmlessly  by  the  buck 
and  landed  in  one  of  the  General's  dogs,  killing  the  poor 
hound  instantly.  Though  this  was  a  loss  keenly  felt,  there 
was  no  resisting  the  chance  to  guy  the  hunter.  Even  after 
Tom  had  come  to  be  one  of  the  best  shots  in  the  Seventh 
Cavalry,  and  when  the  General  never  went  hunting  without 
him,  if  he  could  help  it,  he  continued  to  say,  "  Oh,  Tom's  a 
good  shot,  a  sure  aim — he's  sure  to  hit  something  !  "  Tom 
was  very  apt,  also,  to  find  newspaper  clippings  laid  around, 
with  apparent  carelessness  by  his  brother,  where  he  would 
see  them.  For  example,  like  this  one,  which  I  have  kept 
among  some  old  letters,  as  a  reminder  of  those  merry  days: 
"  An  editor  went  hunting  the  other  day,  for  the  first  time  in 


104  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

twenty-two  years,  and  he  was  lucky  enough  to  bring  down 
an  old  farmer  by  a  shot  in  the  leg.  The  distance  was  sixty- 
six  yards." 

We  had  long  and  delightful  rides  over  the  level  country. 
Sometimes  my  husband  and  I,  riding  quietly  along  at  twi- 
light, for  the  days  were  still  too  warm  for  much  exercise  at 
noon-time,  came  upon  as  many  as  three  coveys  of  quail  scur- 
rying to  the  underbrush.  In  a  short  walk  from  camp  he 
could  bag  a  dozen  birds,  and  we  had  plenty  of  duck  in  the 
creek  near  us.  The  bird  dog  was  a  perpetual  pleasure.  She 
was  the  dearest,  chummiest  sort  of  house-dog,  and  when  we 
took  her  out  she  still  visited  with  us  perpetually,  running  to 
us  every  now  and  again  to  utter  a  little  whine,  or  to  have  us 
witness  her  tail,  which,  in  her  excitement  in  rushing  through 
the  underbrush,  cacti  and  weeds,  was  usually  scratched,  torn 
and  bleeding.  The  country  was  so  dry  that  we  could  roam 
at  will,  regardless  of  roads.  Our  horses  were  accustomed  to 
fording  streams,  pushing  their  way  through  thickets  and 
brambles,  and  becoming  so  interested  in  making  a  route 
through  them  that  my  habit  sometimes  caught  in  the  briars, 
and  my  hat  was  lifted  off  by  the  low-hanging  moss  and 
branches;  and  if  I  was  not  very  watchful,  the  horse  would  go 
through  a  passage  between  two  trees  just  wide  enough  for 
himself,  and  rub  me  off,  unless  I  scrambled  to  the  pommel. 
The  greater  the  obstacles  my  husband  encountered,  even  in 
his  sports,  the  more  pleasure  it  was  to  him.  His  own  horses 
were  so  trained  that  he  shot  from  their  backs  without  their 
moving.  Mine  would  also  stand  fire,  and  at  the  report  of  a 
gun,  behaved  much  better  than  his  mistress. 

Eliza,  instead  of  finding  the  General  wearing  his  white 
linen  to  celebrate  Sunday,  according  to  her  observances,  was 
apt  to  get  it  on  week-days  after  office-hours,  far  too  often  to 
suit  her.  On  the  Sabbath,  she  was  immensely  puffed  up  to 
see  him  emerge  from  the  tent,  speckless  and  spotless,  because 
she  said  to  rne,  "  Whilst  the  rest  of  the  officers  is  only  too 
glad  to  get  a  white  shirt,  the  Ginnel  walks  out  among  'em 
all,  in  linen  from  top  to  toe."  She  has  been  sitting  beside 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  IO5 

me,  talking  over  a  day  at  that  time:  "Do  you  mind,  Miss 
Libbie,  that  while  we  was  down  in  Texas  the  Ginnel  was 
startin'  off  on  a  deer-hunt,  I  jest  went  up  to  him  and  tole 
him,  '  Now,  Ginnel,  you  go  take  off  them  there  white  pants.' 
He  said  so  quiet,  sassy,  cool,  roguish-like,  '  The  deer  always 
like  something  white  ' — telling  me  that  jest  'cause  he  wanted 
to  keep  'em  on.  Well,  he  went,  all  the  same,  and  when  he 
came  back,  I  says,  *  I  don't  think  the  deer  saw  you  in  those 
pants.'  He  was  covered  with  grass-stains  and  mud,  and  a 
young  fawn  swinging  across  the  saddle.  But  them  pants 
was  mud  and  blood,  and  green  and  yellow  blotches,  from 
hem  to  bindin'.  But  he  jest  laughed  at  me  because  I  was 
a-scoldin',  and  brought  the  deer  out  to  me,  and  I  skinned  it 
the  fust  time  I  ever  did,  and  cooked  it  next  day,  and  we  had 
a  nice  dinner." 

At  that  time  Eliza  was  a  famous  belle.  Our  colored  coach- 
man, Henry,  was  a  permanent  fixture  at  the  foot  of  her 
throne,  while  the  darkeys  on  the  neighboring  plantations 
came  nightly  to  worship.  She  bore  her  honors  becomingly, 
as  well  as  the  fact  that  she  was  the  proud  possessor  of  a 
showy  outfit,  including  silk  dresses.  The  soldiers  to  whom 
Eliza  had  been  kind  in  Virginia  had  given  her  clothes  that 
they  had  found  in  the  caches  where  the  farmers  endeavored 
to  hide  their  valuables  during  the  war.  Eliza  had  made  one 
of  these  very  receptacles  for  her  "ole  miss"  before  she  left 
the  plantation,  and  while  her  conscience  allowed  her  to  take 
the  silken  finery  of  some  other  woman  whom  she  did  not 
know,  she  kept  the  secret  of  the  hiding-place  of  her  own  peo- 
ple's valuables  until  after  the  war,  when  the  General  sent  her 
home  in  charge  of  one  of  his  sergeants  to  pay  a  visit.  Even 
the  old  mistress  did  not  know  the  spot  that  Eliza  had  chosen, 
which  had  been  for  years  a  secret,  and  she  describes  the  joy 
at  sight  of  her,  and  her  going  to  the  place  in  the  field  and 
digging  up  the  property  "with  right  smart  of  money,  too, 
Miss  Libbie — enough,  with  that  the  Ginnel  gave  me  to  take 
home,  to  keep  'em  till  the  crops  could  be  harvested." 

This  finery  of  Eliza's  drove  a  woman  servant  at  the  next 


106  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

place  to  plan  a  miserable  revenge,  which  came  near  sending 
us  all  into  another  world.  We  were  taking  our  breakfast  one 
morning,  with  the  table  spread  under  the  awning  in  front  of 
our  tent.  The  air,  not  yet  heated  by  the  sun,  came  over  the 
prairie  from  the  sea.  The  little  green  swift  and  the  chame- 
leon, which  the  General  had  found  in  the  arbor  roof  and  tam- 
ed as  pets,  looked  down  upon  as  reposeful  and  pretty  a 
scene  as  one  could  wish,  when  we  suddenly  discovered  a 
blaze  in  the  cook-tent,  where  we  had  now  a  stove — but  Eliza 
shall  tell  the  story;  "  When  I  fust  saw  the  fire,  Miss  Libbie, 
I  was  a-waitin'  on  you  at  breakfast.  Then  the  first  thought 
was  the  Ginnel's  powder-can,  and  I  jest  dropped  everythin' 
and  ran  and  found  the  blaze  was  a-runnin'  up  the  canvas  of 
my  tent,  nearly  reachin'  the  powder.  The  can  had  two 
handles,  and  I  ketched  it  up  and  ran  outside.  When  I  first 
got  in  the  tent,  it  had  burnt  clar  up  to  the  ridge-pole  on  one 
side.  Some  things  in  my  trunk  was  scorched  mightily,  and 
one  side  of  it  was  pretty  well  burnt.  The  fire  was  started 
right  behind  my  trunk,  not  very  near  the  cook-stove.  The 
Ginnel  said  to  me  how  cool  and  deliberate  I  was,  and  he  told 
me  right  away  that  if  my  things  had  been  destroyed,  I  would 
have  everythin'  replaced,  for  he  was  bound  I  wasn't  going  to 
lose  nothin'." 

My  husband,  in  this  emergency,  was  as  cool  as  he  always 
was.  He  followed  Eliza  as  she  ran  for  the  powder-can,  and 
saved  the  tent  and  its  contents  from  destruction,  and,  with- 
out doubt,  saved  our  lives.  The  noble  part  that  I  bore  in  the 
moment  of  peril  was  to  take  a  safe  position  in  our  tent,  wring 
my  hands  and  cry.  If  there  was  no  one  else  to  rush  forward 
in  moments  of  danger,  courage  came  unexpectedly,  but  I  do 
not  recall  much  brave  volunteering  on  my  part. 

Eliza  put  such  a  broad  interpretation  upon  the  General's 
oft-repeated  instruction  not  to  let  any  needy  person  go  away 
from  our  tent  or  quarters  hungry,  that  occasionally  we  had 
to  protest.  She  describes  to  me  now  his  telling  her  she 
was  carrying  her  benevolence  rather  too  far,  and  her  reply- 
ing, "Yes,  Ginnel,  I  do  take  in  some  one  once  and  awhile, 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  IO/ 

off  and  on"  "Yes,"  he  replied  to  me,  "  more  on  than  off,  I 
should  say. "  "  One  chile  I  had  to  hide  in  the  weeds  a  week, 
Miss  Libbie.  The  Ginnel  used  to  come  out  to  the  cook-tent 
and  stand  there  kinder  careless  like,  and  he  would  spy  a  lit- 
tle path  running  out  into  the  weeds.  Well,  he  used  to  carry 
me  high  and  dry  about  them  little  roads  leading  off  to  folks 
he  said  I  was  a-feedin.'  I  would  say,  when  I  saw  him  lookin' 
at  the  little  path  in  the  weeds,  'Well,  what  is  it,  Ginnel?' 
He  would  look  at  me  so  keen-like  out  of  his  eyes,  and  say, 
'That's  what  /  say.'  Then  he'd  say  he  was  goin'  to  get  a 
couple  of  bloodhounds,  and  run  'em  through  the  bushes  to 
find  out  just  how  many  I  was  a-feedin'.  Then,  Miss  Libbie, 
we  never  did  come  to  a  brush  or  a  thicket  but  that  he  would 
look  around  at  me  so  kinder  sly  like,  and  tell  me  that  would 
be  a  fust-rate  ranch  for  me.  Then  I  would  say.  '  Well,  it's  a 
good  thing  I  do  have  somebody  sometimes,  'cause  my  cook- 
tent  is  allus  stuck  way  off  by  itself,  and  it's  lonesome,  and 
sometimes  I'm  so  scart.'  "But,  you  know,  Miss  Libbie,"  she 
added,  afraid  I  might  think  she  reflected  on  one  whose  mem- 
ory she  reveres,  "  my  tent  was  obliged  to  be  a  good  bit  off, 
'cause  the  smell  of  the  cookin'  took  away  the  Ginnel's  appe- 
tite; he  was  so  uncertain  like  in  his  eatin',  you  remember." 

In  Texas,  two  wretched  little  ragamuffins — one,  of  the  poor 
white  trash,  and  another  a  negro — were  kept  skulking  about 
the  cook-tent,  making  long,  circuitous  detours  to  the  creek 
for  water,  for  fear  we  would  see  them,  as  they  said  "Miss 
Lize  tole  us  you'd  make  a  scatter  if  you  knew  'no  'count' 
chillern  was  a-bein'  fed  at  the  cook-tent."  They  slipped  into 
the  underbrush  at  our  approach,  and  lay  low  in  the  grass  at 
the  rear  of  the  tent  if  they  heard  our  voices.  The  General 
at  first  thought  that,  after  Eliza  had  thoroughly  stuffed  them 
and  made  them  fetch  and  carry  for  her,  they  would  disap- 
pear, and  so  chose  to  ignore  their  presence,  pretending  he 
had  not  seen  them.  But  at  last  they  appeared  to  be  a  per- 
manent addition,  and  we  concluded  that  the  best  plan  would 
be  to  acknowledge  their  presence  and  make  the  best  of  the 
infliction;  so  we  named  one  Texas,  and  the  other  Jeff.  Eliza 


io8 


TENTING    ON   THE    PLAINS. 


beamed,  and  told   the  orphans,  who  capered  out  boldly  in 
sight  for  the  first  time,  and  ran  after  Miss  "  Lize  "  to  do  her 


bidding.  Both  of  them,  from  being 
starved,  wretched,  and  dull,  grew 
quite  "  peart  "  under  her  care.  The 
first  evidence  of  gratitude  I  had  was 
the  creeping  into  the  tent  of  the 
little  saffron-colored  white  boy, with 
downcast  eyes,  mumbling  that '  'Miss 
Lize  said  that  I  could  pick  the  scor- 
pions out  of  your  shoes."  I  asked, 
in  wonder — one  spark  of  generosity 
blazing  up  before  its  final  oblitera- 
tion— "And  how,  in  the  name  of 
mercy,  do  you  get  on  with  the  things 
yourself?"  He  lifted  up  a  dimin- 
utive heel,  and  proudly  showed  me 

0  (^OLLY  WH/tf  ^M  ^AT—     a   scar.      The    boy    had     probably 
never  had  on  a  pair  of  shoes,  conse- 
quently this  part  of  his  pedal  extremity  was  absolutely  so  cal- 
lous, so  evidently  obdurate  to  any  object  less  penetrating  than 
a  sharpened  spike  driven  in  with  a  hammer,  I  found  myself 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  IOQ 

wondering  how  a  scorpion's  little  spear  could  have  effected 
an  entrance  through  the  seemingly  impervious  outer  cuticle. 
Finally,  I  concluded  that  at  a  more  tender  age  that  "too 
solid  flesh"  may  have  been  susceptible  to  an  "honorable 
wound."  It  turned  out  that  this  cowed  and  apparently  life- 
less little  midget  was  perfectly  indifferent  to  scorpions.  By 
this  time  I  no  longer  pretended  to  courage  of  any  sort;  1  had 
found  one  in  my  trunk,  and  if,  after  that,  I  was  compelled  to 
go  to  it, I  flung  up  the  lid,  ran  to  the  other  side  of  the  tent,  and 
"shoo-shooed  "  with  that  eminently  senseless  feminine  call 
which  is  used  alike  for  cows,  geese,  or  any  of  these  acknowl- 
edged foes.  Doubtless  a  bear  would  be  greeted  with  the  same 
word,  until  the  supposed  occupants  had  run  off.  Night  and 
morning  my  husband  shook  and  beat  my  clothes  while  he 
helped  me  to  dress.  The  officers  daily  came  in  with  stories 
of  the  trick,  so  common  to  the  venomous  reptiles,  of  hiding 
between  the  sheets,  and  the  General  then  even  shook  the 
bedding  in  our  eyrie  room  in  the  wagon.  Of  all  this  he  was  re- 
lieved by  the  boy  that  Eliza  called  "  poor  little  picked  spar- 
row," who  was  appointed  as  my  maid.  Night  and  morning 
the  yellow  dot  ran  his  hands  into  shoes,  stockings,  night-gown, 
and  dress-sleeves,  in  all  the  places  where  the  scorpions  love 
to  lurk;  and  I  bravely  and  generously  gathered  myself  into 
the  armchair  while  the  search  went  on. 

Eliza  has  been  reminding  me  of  our  daily  terror  of  the 
creeping,  venomous  enemy  of  those  hot  lands.  She  says, 
"One  day,  Miss  Libbie,  I  got  a  bite,  and  I  squalled  out  to 
the  Ginnel,  •  Something  bit  me  ! '  The  Ginnel,  he  said,  '  Bit 
you  !  bit  you  whar?'  I  says,  'On  my  arm;'  and,  Miss  Lib- 
bie, it  was  pizen,  for  my  arm  it  just  swelled  enormous  and 
got  all  up  in  lumps.  Then  it  pained  me  so  the  Ginnel  stopped 
a-laughin'  and  sent  for  the  doctor,  and  he  giv'  me  a  drink  of 
whiskey.  Then  what  do  you  think  !  when  I  got  better,  didn't 
he  go  and  say  I  was  playin'  off  on  him,  just  to  get  a  big 
drink  of  whiskey  ?  But  I  'clar'  to  you,  Miss  Libbie,  I  was  bad 
off  that  night.  The  centipede  had  crept  into  my  bedclothes, 
and  got  a  good  chance  at  me,  I  can  tell  you." 


1 10  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Our  surgeon  was  a  naturalist,  and  studied  up  the  vipers 
and  venomous  insects  of  that  almost  tropical  land.  He 
showed  me  a  captured  scorpion  one  day,  and,  to  make  me 
more  vigilant,  infuriated  the  loathsome  creature  till  it  flung 
its  javelin  of  a  tail  over  on  its  back  and  stung  itself  to  death. 

Legends  of  what  had  happened  to  army  women  who  had 
disregarded  the  injunctions  for  safety  were  handed  down 
from  elder  to  subaltern,  and  a  plebe  fell  heir  to  these  stories 
as  much  as  to  the  tactics  imparted  by  his  superiors,  or  the 
campaigning  lore.  I  hardly  know  when  I  first  heard  of  the 
unfortunate  woman  who  lingered  too  far  behind  the  caval- 
cade, in  riding  for  pleasure  or  marching,  and  was  captured 
by  the  Indians,  but  for  ten  years  her  story  was  related  to  me 
by  officers  of  all  ages  and  all  branches  of  the  service  as  a 
warning.  In  Texas,  the  lady  who  had  been  frightfully  stung 
by  a  centipede  pointed  every  moral.  The  sting  was  inflicted 
before  the  war,  and  in  the  far  back  days  of  "  angel  sleeves," 
which  fell  away  from  the  arm  to  the  shoulder.  Though  this 
misfortune  dated  back  from  such  a  distant  period,  the  young 
officers,  in  citing  her  as  a  warning  to  us  to  be  careful,  de- 
scribed the  red  marks  all  the  way  up  the  arm,  with  as  much 
fidelity  as  if  they  had  seen  them.  No  one  would  have 
dreamed  that  the  story  had  filtered  through  so  many  chan- 
nels. But  surely  one  needed  little  warning  of  the  centipede. 
Once  seen,  it  made  as  red  stains  on  the  memory  as  on  the 
beautiful  historic  arm  that  was  used  to  frighten  us.  The 
Arabs  call  it  the  mother  of  forty-four,  alluding  to  the  legs; 
and  the  swift  manner  in  which  it  propels  itself  over  the 
ground,  aided  by  eight  or  nine  times  as  many  feet  as  are 
allotted  to  ordinary  reptiles,  makes  one  habitually  place  him- 
self in  a  position  for  a  quick  jump  or  flight  while  campaign- 
ing in  Texas.  We  had  to  be  watchful  all  the  time  we  were 
in  the  South.  Even  in  winter,  when  wood  was  brought  in 
and  laid  down  beside  the  fireplace,  the  scorpions,  torpid 
with  cold  at  first,  crawled  out  of  knots  and  crevices,  and 
made  a  scattering  till  they  were  captured,  One  of  my  friends 
was  stationed  at  a  post  where  the  quarters  were  old  and  of 


OUT   OF   THE   WILDERNESS.  Ill 

adobe,  and  had  been  used  during  the  war  for  stables  by  the 
Confederates.  It  was  of  no  use  to  try  to  exterminate  these 
reptiles;  they  run  so  swiftly  it  takes  a  deft  hand  and  a  sure 
stroke  to  finish  them  up.  Our  officers  grew  expert  in  devising 
means  to  protect  themselves,  and,  in  this  instance,  a  box  of 
moist  mud,  with  a  shingle  all  ready,  was  kept  in  the  quarters. 
When  a  tarantula  showed  himself,  he  was  plastered  on  the 
wall.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  how  loathsome  that  great 
spider  is.  The  round  body  and  long,  far-reaching  legs  are 
covered  with  hairs,  each  particular  hair  visible;  and  the  satanic 
eyes  bulge  out  as  they  come  on  in  your  direction,  making  a 
feature  of  every  nightmare  for  a  long  time  after  they  are  first 
seen.  The  wife  of  an  officer,  to  keep  these  horrors  from  drop- 
ping on  her  bed  as  they  ran  over  the  ceiling,  had  a  sheet  fasten- 
ed at  the  four  corners  and  let  down  from  the  rough  rafters  to 
catch  all  invaders,  and  thus  insured  herself  undisturbed  sleep. 
Officers  all  watch  and  guard  the  women  who  share  their 
hardships.  Even  the  young,  unmarried  men — the  bachelor 
officers,  as  they  are  called —patterning  after  their  elders, 
soon  fall  into  a  sort  of  fatherly  fashion  of  looking  out  for  the 
comfort  and  safety  of  the  women  they  are  with,  whether  old 
or  young,  pretty  or  ugly.  It  often  happens  that  a  comrade, 
going  on  a  scout,  gives  his  wife  into  their  charge.  I  think 
of  a  hundred  kindly  deeds  shown  to  all  of  us  on  the  frontier; 
and  I  have  known  of  acts  so  delicate  that  I  can  hardly  refer 
to  them  with  sufficient  tact,  and  wish  I  might  write  with  a 
tuft  of  thistle-down.  In  the  instance  of  some  very  young 
women — with  hearts  so  pure  and  souls  so  spotless  they  could 
not  for  one  moment  imagine  there  lived  on  earth  people  de- 
praved enough  to  question  all  acts,  no  matter  how  harmless 
in  themselves — I  have  known  a  little  word  of  caution  to  be 
spoken  regarding  some  exuberance  of  conduct  that  arose 
from  the  excess  of  a  thoughtless,  joyous  heart.  The  hus- 
band who  returned  to  his  wife  could  thank  the  friend  who 
had  watched  over  his  interests  no  more  deeply  than  the  wife 
who  owed  her  escape  from  criticism  to  his  timely  word. 
And  sometimes,  when  we  went  into  the  States,  or  were  at  a 


112  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

post  with  strange  officers,  it  would  not  occur  to  us,  gay  and 
thoughtless  as  we  were,  that  we  must  consider  that  we  were 
not  among  those  with  whom  we  had  "summered  and  win- 
tered;" and  the  freedom  and  absolute  naturalness  of  man- 
ner that  arose  from  our  long  and  intimate  relationship  in 
isolated  posts,  ought  perhaps  to  give  way  to  more  formal  con- 
duct. If  the  women  said  to  the  men,  "  Now  we  are  among 
strangers,  do  you  not  think  they  would  misunderstand  our 
dancing  or  driving  or  walking  together  just  as  fearlessly  as 
at  home?"  That  was  sufficient.  The  men  said,  "Sure 
enough  !  It  never  occurred  to  me.  By  Jove  !  I  wish  we  were 
back  where  a  fellow  need  not  be  hampered  by  having  every  act 
questioned;"  and  then  no  one  sought  harder  or  more  carefully 
so  to  act  that  we  might  satisfy  the  exactions  of  that  censorious 
group  of  elderly  women  who  sat  in  hotel  parlors,  looking  on 
and  remarking, '  'We  did  not  do  so  when  we  were  girls, "  or  even 
some  old  frump  in  a  garrison  we  visited, who,  having  squeezed 
dry  her  orange  of  life,  was  determined  that  others  should  get 
no  good  out  of  theirs  if  she  could  insert  one  drop  of  gall. 

Occasionally  the  young  officers,  perhaps  too  timid  to  ven- 
ture on  a  personal  suggestion,  sent  us  word  by  roundabout 
ways  that  they  did  not  want  us  to  continue  to  cultivate  some- 
one of  whom  we  knew  nothing  save  that  he  was  agreeable. 
How  my  husband  thanked  them !  He  walked  the  floor  with  his 
hands  behind  him,  moved  so  that  his  voice  was  unsteady,  and 
said  his  say  about  what  he  owed  to  men  who  would  not  let  a 
woman  they  valued  be  even  associated  with  anyone  who  might 
reflect  on  them.  He  was  a  home-lover,  and  not  being  with 
those  who  daily  congregated  at  the  sutler's  store,  the  real 
"  gossip-mill "  of  a  garrison,  he  heard  but  little  of  what  was 
going  on.  A  man  is  supposed  to  be  the  custodian  of  his  own 
household  in  civil  life;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  in  our 
life  a  husband  had  often  to  leave  a  young  and  inexperienced 
bride  to  the  care  of  his  comrades  while  he  went  off  for  months 
of  field  duty.  The  grateful  tears  rise  now  in  my  eyes  at  the  rec- 
ollection of  men  who  guarded  us  from  the  very  semblance  of 
evil  as  if  we  had  been  their  sisters. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A  TEXAS   NORTHER. 

WE  had  not  been  long  in  our  camp  at  Hempstead,  before 
the  wives  of  two  of  the  staff  arrived  by  way  of  Galveston. 
Their  tents  were  put  on  a  line  with  or  near  ours,  and  arbors 
built  over  them.  One  of  these  women,  Mrs.  Greene,  had 
been  one  of  my  dearest  girlhood  friends,  and  every  pleasure 
of  my  happy  life  was  enhanced  by  the  presence  of  this  lovely 
woman.  We  all  went  out,  after  the  heat  of  the  day,  on  long 
rides  about  the  country.  Our  father  Custer  was  a  fine  rider, 
and  not  only  sat  his  horse  well,  but  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  unseat  him.  He  grew  more  wary  and  watchful  of  his  tor- 
menting sons  every  day.  If  they  halted,  apparently  only  to 
say  a  casual  word  or  so  to  their  paternal,  that  keen  old  man 
spurred  his  horse  to  one  side  with  the  agility  of  a  circus-rider, 
just  in  time  to  avoid  the  flying  heels  of  the  horse  of  his  off- 
spring in  front  of  him,  which  had  been  taught  to  fling  his 
hoofs  up  when  touched  just  back  of  the  saddle.  If  both 
boys  came  together  and  rode  one  on  each  side  of  him,  he 
looked  uneasily  from  one  to  the  other,  suspicious  of  this  sud- 
den exhibition  of  friendship;  and  well  he  might,  for  while 
one  fixed  his  attention  by  some  question  that  provoked  an 
answer,  usually  about  politics,  the  other  gave  a  quick  rap  on 
the  back  of  the  horse,  and  the  next  thing,  the  father  was 
grasping  the  pommel  to  keep  from  being  flung  forward  of  the 
animal  as  he  threw  up  his  heels  and  plunged  his  head  down, 
making  the  angle  of  an  incline  plane.  Even  when,  after  a 
concerted  plan,  one  rode  up  and  pulled  the  cape  of  the  elder 
man's  overcoat  over  his  head  and  held  it  there  a  moment, 
while  the  other  gave  the  horse  a  cut,  he  sat  like  a  centaur, 

"3 


114  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

and  no  surprise  unseated  him  or  loosened  his  grip  on  the  reins. 
They  knew  his  horsemanship  well,  as  he  had  ridden  after  the 
hounds  in  Maryland  and  Virginia  in  his  younger  days,  and 
had  taught  them  to  sit  a  horse  bareback,  when  their  little  fat 
legs  were  too  short  to  describe  a  curve  on  the  animal's  side. 
Of  course  I  was  always  begging  to  have  them  spare  father, 
but  it  was  needless  championship.  He  enjoyed  their  pranks 
with  all  his  fun-loving  soul. 

It  was  very  hard  to  get  postage,  and  he  was  unwary  enough 
one  day — on  account  of  the  color  being  the  same  as  the  issue 
of  that  year — to  buy  a  dollar's  worth  of  his  eldest  scion,  only 
to  find  them  old  ones,  such  as  were  used  before  the  war. 
Whether  he  considered  the  joke  worth  a  dollar,  I  could  not 
decipher,  for  he  was  silent;  but  soon  afterward  he  showed  me 
an  envelope  marked  in  the  writing  of  his  son  Armstrong, 
"Conscience-money, "containing  the$i  unlawfully  obtained. 

We  were  invited  one  night  to  go  to  a  coon-hunt,  conducted 
in  the  real  old  Southern  style.  The  officers  wanted  us  to  see 
some  hunting,  but  were  obliged  to  leave  us  behind  hitherto 
when  they  crossed  the  Brazos  River  on  deer-hunts,  and  were 
the  guests  of  the  planters  in  the  chase,  that  began  before 
dawn  and  lasted  all  day.  We  had  thickets,  underbrush  and 
ditches  to  encounter,  before  the  dogs  treed  the  coon ;  then  a 
little  darkey,  brought  along  for  the  climbing,  went  up  into 
the  branches  and  dislodged  the  game,  which  fell  among  our 
and  the  neighbors'  dogs.  No  voice  excited  them  more  wildly 
than  the  "  Whoop-la!  "  of  our  old  father,  and  when  we  came 
home  at  2  A.  M.,  carrying  a  coon  and  a  possum,  he  was  as 
fresh  as  the  youngest  of  us. 

The  citizens  surrounding  us  were  so  relieved  to  find  that 
our  troops  left  them  unmolested,  they  frankly  contrasted  the 
disciplined  conduct  with  the  lawlessness  to  which  they  had 
been  witness  in  States  where  the  Confederate  army  was 
stationed.  But  they  scarcely  realized  that  an  army  in  time 
of  peace  is  much  more  restricted.  They  could  hardly  say 
enough  about  the  order  that  was  carried  out,  preventing  the 
negroes  from  joining  the  column  as  it  marched  into  Texas. 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER.  11$ 

There  was  no  way  of  taking  care  of  them,  and  the  General 
directed  that  none  should  follow,  so  they  went  back,  con- 
tented to  work  where  they  would  be  fed  and  clothed. 

One  reason  that  our  life  seemed  to  me  the  very  perfection 
of  all  that  is  ever  attained  on  earth  was,  that  the  rumors  of 
trouble  with  Mexico  had  ceased.  The  demands  of  our  Gov- 
ernment had  been  complied  with;  but  it  was  thought  best  to 
keep  the  troops  in  the  field  the  rest  of  the  year,  though  there 
was  to  be  no  war. 

Our  first  experience  with  a  Texas  norther  surprised  and 
startled  us.  It  came  on  in  the  night,  preceded  by  the  usual 
heavy,  suffocating  air  which  renders  breathing  an  effort. 
After  this  prelude,  the  wild  blast  of  wind  swept  down  on  us 
with  a  fury  indescribable.  We  heard  the  roar  as  it  approached 
over  the  stretch  of  prairie  between  us  and  the  sea.  Our  tent, 
though  it  was  guyed  by  ropes  stretched  from  the  ridge-pole 
to  a  strong  post  driven  far  into  the  ground,  both  in  front  and 
at  the  rear,  shook,  rattled,  and  flapped  as  if  with  the  rage  of 
some  human  creature.  It  was  twisted  and  wrenched  from 
side  to  side;  the  arbor  overhead  seemed  to  toss  to  and  fro, 
and  the  wagon  rocked  in  a  crazy  effort  to  spill  us  out.  Though 
the  ropes  stretched  and  cracked  like  cordage  at  sea,  and  the 
canvas  flapped  like  loosened  sails,  we  did  not  go  down. 
Indeed,  rocked  in  this  improvised  "cradle  of  the  deep,"  it 
was  hard  to  tell  whether  one  was  at  sea  or  on  land.  I  begged 
to  get  up  and  dress  for  the  final  collapse  that  I  was  sure  was 
coming,  but  my  husband  quieted  me  and  calmed  my  fears, 
believing  that  the  approaching  rain  would  still  the  wind,  as 
it  eventually  did.  Next  morning  a  scene  of  havoc  was  visible. 
Our  neighbors  crept  out  of  their  tents,  and  we  women,  in  a 
little  whispered  aside,  exchanged  our  opinions  upon  the 
climate  of  the  "  Sunny  South." 

They  also  had  passed  a  night  of  terror,  but  fortunately 
their  tents  did  not  go  down.  Mrs.  Lyon  had  just  come  from 
the  North,  and  expected  to  join  her  husband;  meanwhile  she 
was  our  guest,  and  the  General  and  I  had  endeavored  to  give 
her  as  cordial  a  welcome  as  we  could,  feeling  that  all  must  be 


Il6  TENTING    ON   THE    PLAINS. 

so  strange  to  her  after  the  security  and  seclusion  of  her  girl- 
hood's home.  The  night  preceding  the  norther  we  took  her 
to  her  tent  near  ours,  and  helped  her  arrange  for  the  night, 
assuring  her  that  we  were  so  near  that  we  could  hear  her 
voice,  if  she  was  in  the  least  afraid.  We,  being  novices  in 
the  experience  of  that  climate  and  its  gales,  had  no  idea  the 
wind  would  rise  to  such  concert  pitch  that  no  voice  could  be 
distinguished.  She  said  that  when  we  fastened  her  in  from 
the  outside  world  with  two  straps,  she  felt  very  uncertain 
about  her  courage  holding  out.  We  kept  on  assuring  her 
not  to  be  afraid,  but  on  bidding  her  good-night  and  saying 
again  not  to  be  in  the  least  disturbed,  that  the  sentinel  walked 
his  beat  in  front  of  her  tent  all  night,  she  dared  not  own  up 
that  this  assurance  did  not  tend  to  soothe  her  anxious  fears, 
for  she  thought  she  would  be  more  afraid  of  the  guard  than 
of  anything  else.  And  as  I  think  of  it,  such  a  good-night 
from  us  was  rather  unsatisfactory.  My  husband,  soldier-like, 
put  the  utmost  faith  in  the  guard,  and  I,  though  only  so 
short  a  time  before  mortally  afraid  of  the  stern,  unswerving 
warrior  myself,  had  soon  forgotten  that  there  were  many 
timid  women  in  the  world  who  knew  nothing  of  sleeping 
without  locks  or  bolts,  and  thought,  perhaps,  that  at  the 
slightest  ignorance  or  dereliction  of  duty  the  sentinel  would 
fire  on  an  offender,  whether  man  or  woman.  Added  to  this 
fear  of  the  sentinel,  the  storm  took  what  remnant  of  nerve 
she  had  left;  and  though  she  laughed  next  morning  about 
her  initiation  into  the  service  of  the  Government,  there  were 
subsequent  confessions  to  the  horror  of  that  unending  night. 
In  talking  with  Major  and  Mrs.  Lyon  nowadays,  when  it  is 
my  privilege  to  see  them,  there  seemed  to  be  no  memories 
but  pleasant  ones  of  our  Texas  life.  They  might  well  cherish 
two  reminiscences  as  somewhat  disturbing,  for  Mrs.  Lyon's 
reception  by  the  hurricane,  and  the  Major's  baptism  of  gore 
when  he  killed  his  first  deer,  were  not  scenes  that  would  bear 
frequent  repetition  and  only  leave  pleasant  memories. 

The  staff-officers  had  caused  a  long  shade  to  be  built,  in- 
stead of  shorter  ones,  which  would  have  stood  the  storms 


A  TEXAS   NORTHER.  117 

better.  Under  this  all  of  their  tents  were  pitched  in  two 
rows  facing  each  other;  and  protected  by  this  arbor,  they 
daily  took  the  siesta  which  is  almost  compulsory  there  in  the 
heat  of  the  noontide.  Now  the  shade  was  lifted  off  one  side 
and  tilted  over,  and  some  of  the  tents  were  also  flat.  Among 
them  was  that  of  our  father  Custer.  He  had  extricated  him- 
self with  difficulty  from  under  the  canvas,  and  described  his 
sensations  so  quaintly  that  his  woes  were  greeted  with  roars 
of  laughter  from  us  all.  After  narrating  the  downfall  of  his 
"rag  house,"  he  dryly  remarked  that  it  would  seem,  owing 
to  the  climate  and  other  causes,  he  was  not  going  to  have 
much  uninterrupted  sleep,  and,  looking  slyly  at  the  staff,  he 
added  that  his  neighborhood  was  not  the  quietest  he  had 
ever  known. 

The  letters  home  at  that  time,  in  spite  of  their  description 
of  trivial  events,  and  the  exuberant  underlined  expressions  of 
girlish  pleasure  over  nothings,  my  father  enjoyed  and  pre- 
served. I  find  that  our  idle  Sundays  were  almost  blanks  in 
life,  as  we  had  no  service  and  the  hunting  and  riding  were 
suspended.  I  marked  the  day  by  writing  home,  and  a  few 
extracts  will  perhaps  present  a  clearer  idea  of  the  life  there 
than  anything  that  could  be  written  now: 

"  Every  Sunday  I  wake  up  with  the  thought  of  home,  and 
wish  that  we  might  be  there  and  go  to  church  with  you.  I 
can  imagine  how  pleasant  home  is  now.  Among  other  lux- 
uries, I  see  with  my  '  mind's  eye,'  a  large  plate  of  your  nice 
apples  on  the  dining-room  table.  I  miss  apples  here;  none 
grow  in  this  country;  and  a  man  living,  near  here  told  our 
Henry  that  he  hadn't  seen  one  for  five  years.  Father  Custer 
bought  me  some  small,  withered-looking  ones  for  fifty  cents 
apiece.  It  seems  so  strange  that  in  this  State,  where  many 
planters  live  who  are  rich  enough  to  build  a  church  individ- 
ually, there  is  such  a  scarcity  of  churches.  Why,  at  the 
North,  the  first  knowledge  one  has  of  the  proximity  of  a  vil- 
lage is  by  seeing  a  spire,  and  a  church  is  almost  the  first 
building  put  up  when  a  town  is  laid  out.  Here  in  this  coun- 
try it  is  the  last  to  be  thought  of.  Cotton  is  indeed  king. 


Il8  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

The  cake  you  sent  to  me  by  Nettie  Greene,  dear  mother, was 
a  perfect  godsend.  Oh,  anything  you  make  does  taste  so 
good! 

"Our  orderly  has  perfected  a  trade  fora  beautiful  little 
horse  for  me,  so  that  when  Custis  Lee's  corns  trouble  him,  I 
am  not  obliged  to  take  the  choice  of  staying  at  home  or  rid- 
ing one  of  Armstrong's  prancers.  The  new  horse  has  cun- 
ning tricks,  getting  down  on  his  knees  to  let  me  get  on  and 
off,  if  I  tell  him  to  do  so.  He  is  very  affectionate,  and  he 
racks  a  mile  inside  of  three  minutes.  We  talk  '  horse  '  a 
great  deal  here,  dear  father,  and  my  letters  may  be  like  our 
talk;  but  any  man  who  has  kept  in  his  stable,  for  months  at 
a  time,  a  famous  race-horse  worth  $9,000,  as  you  have  kept 
Don  Juan,*  ought  not  to  object  to  a  little  account  of  other 
people's  animals.  We  had  an  offer  of  $500  for  Custis  Lee  at 
Alexandria." 

"  I  sometimes  have  uninvited  guests  in  my  tent.  Friday, 
Nettie  saw  something  on  the  tray  that  Eliza  was  carrying. 
It  had  a  long  tail,  and  proved  to  be  a  stinging  scorpion.  The 
citizens  pooh-pooh  at  our  fear  of  scorpions,  and  insist  that 
they  are  not  so  very  dangerous;  but  I  was  glad  to  have  that 
particular  one  killed  by  Armstrong  planting  his  gun  on  it. 
I  feel  much  pleased,  and  Armstrong  is  quite  proud,  that  I 
made  myself  a  riding-habit.  You  know  I  lost  the  waist  of 
mine  in  the  forest.  It  took  me  weeks  to  finish  it,  being  my 
first  attempt.  I  ripped  an  old  waist,  and  copied  it  by  draw- 
ing lines  with  a  pencil,  pinning  and  basting;  but  it  fits  very 
well.  I  remember  how  you  both  wanted  me  to  learn  when  I 
was  at  home,  and  I  almost  wished  I  had,  when  I  found  it 
took  me  such  ages  to  do  what  ought  to  have  been  short  work. 

"  Our  letters  take  twenty  days  in  coming,  and  longer  if 


*  Don  Juan  was  a  horse  captured  by  our  soldiers  during  the 
war,  and  bought,  as  was  the  custom,  by  the  General,  for  the  ap- 
praised value  of  a  contract  horse.  It  was  the  horse  that  ran  away 
with  him  at  the  grand  review,  and  it  afterward  died  in  Michigan. 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER.  IIQ 

there  are  storms  in  the  Gulf.  The  papers  are  stale  enough, 
but  Armstrong  goes  through  them  all.  I  feel  so  rich,  and  am 
luxuriating  in  four  splint-bottom  chairs  that  we  hired  an  old 
darkey  to  make  for  us.  I  want  to  sit  in  all  four  at  once,  it 
seems  so  good  to  get  anything  in  which  to  rest  that  has  a 
back. 

"  Our  dogs  give  us  such  pleasure,  though  it  took  me  some 
time  to  get  used  to  the  din  they  set  up  when  Armstrong 
practiced  on  the  horn.  They  call  it  '  giving  tongue '  here, 
but  I  call  that  too  mild  a  word.  Their  whole  bodies  seem 
hollow,  they  bring  forth  such  wild  cries  and  cavernous  howls. 
We  call  them  Byron,  Brandy,  Jupiter,  Rattler,  Sultan,  and 
Tyler." 

"  Something  awful  is  constantly  occurring  among  the  citi- 
zens. It  is  a  lawless  country.  A  relative  of  one  of  our  old 
army  officers,  a  prominent  planter  living  near  here,  was  shot 
dead  in  Houston  by  a  man  bearing  an  old  grudge  against 
him.  It  is  a  common  occurrence  to  shoot  down  men  here 
for  any  offense  whatever.  Armstrong  never  goes  anywhere 
except  for  hunting,  and  as  we  have  plenty  of  books  and  our 
evening  rides,  we  enjoy  life  thoroughly.  Nettie  fell  from  her 
horse,  and  we  were  frightened  for  a  time,  but  she  was  only 
lamed.  Though  she  weighs  165  pounds,  Autie*  picked  her 
up  as  if  she  were  a  baby,  and  carried  her  into  their  tent." 

"  Besides  visiting  at  the  house  of  the  collector  of  the  port, 
where  there  is  a  houseful  of  young  girls,  we  have  been  hos- 
pitably treated  by  some  people  to  whom  Armstrong  was  able 
to  be  of  use.  One  day,  a  gentle  well-bred  Southern  woman 
came  into  our  tent  to  see  Armstrong,  and  asked  his  protec- 
tion for  her  boy,  telling  him  that  for  some  childish  careless- 
ness the  neighboring  colored  people  had  threatened  his  life. 

*  An  abbreviation  of  the  General's  second  name,  Armstrong, 
given  him  by  his  elder  sister's  children,  when  they  were  too  young 
to  pronounce  the  full  name  Armstrong. 


I2O  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Armstrong  believed  her,  and  melted.  He  afterward  inquired 
elsewhere  into  the  matter,  and  was  convinced  that  the  boy 
had  not  intentionally  erred.  The  child  himself  was  proof, 
by  his  frank  manner  and  his  straightforward  story,  of  his 
innocence. 

"I  suppose  we  were  the  first  Yankees  these  people  had 
ever  known,  and  doubtless  nothing  but  gratitude  induced 
them  even  to  speak  with  us;  yet  they  conquered  prejudice, 
and  asked  us  to  dinner.  They  had  been  so  well  dressed 
when  they  called — and  were  accounted  rich,  I  believe,  by  the 
neighbors — that  I  could  scarcely  believe  we  had  reached  the 
right  house  when  we  halted.  It  was  like  the  cabins  of  the 
'  poor  white  trash  '  in  the  forest,  only  larger.  I  thought  we 
had  mistaken  the  negro  quarters  for  the  master's.  Two  large 
rooms,  with  extensions  at  the  rear,  were  divided  by  an  open 
space  roofed  over,  under  which  the  table  was  spread.  The 
house  was  of  rough  logs,  and  unpainted.  Unless  the  Texans 
built  with  home  materials,  their  houses  cost  as  much  as 
palaces  abroad,  for  the  dressed  lumber  had  to  be  hauled  from 
the  seacoast. 

"The  inside  of  this  queer  home  was  in  marked  contrast 
with  the  exterior.  The  furniture  was  modern  and  handsome, 
and  the  piano,  on  which  the  accomplished  mother,  as  well 
as  her  little  son,  gave  us  music,  was  from  one  of  our  best 
Northern  manufactories.  The  china,  glass  and  linen  on  the 
dinner-table  were  still  another  surprise. 

"They  never  broached  politics,  gave  us  an  excellent  din- 
ner, and  got  on  Armstrong's  blind  side  forever  by  giving  him 
a  valuable  full-blooded  pointer,  called  Ginnie,  short  for  Vir- 
ginia. With  four  game  chickens,  a  Virginia  cured  ham  (as 
that  was  their  former  State),  and  two  turkeys,  we  were  sent 
on  our  way  rejoicing." 

"Our  Henry  has  gone  home,  and  we  miss  him,  for  he  is 
fidelity  itself.  He  expects  to  move  his  entire  family  of 
negroes  from  Virginia  to  Monroe,  because  he  says,  father, 
you  are  the  finest  man  he  ever  did  see.  Prepare,  then,  for 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER.  121 

the  dark  cloud  that  is  moving  toward  you,  and  you  may  have 
the  privilege  of  contributing  to  their  support  for  a  time,  if  he 
follows  Eliza's  plan  of  billeting  the  orphan  upon  us. 

"  We  have  a  new  cook  called  Uncle  Charley,  who  has  here- 
tofore been  a  preacher,  but  now  condescends  to  get  up  good 
dinners  for  us.  We  had  eleven  to  dine  to-day,  and  borrowed 
dishes  of  our  Southern  neighbors.  We  had  a  soup  made  out 
of  an  immense  turtle  that  Armstrong  killed  in  the  stream 
yesterday.  Then  followed  turkeys,  boiled  ham— and  roast 
beef,  of  course,  for  Armstrong  thinks  no  dinner  quite  perfect 
without  his  beef.  We  are  living  well,  and  on  so  little.  Arm- 
strong's pay  as  a  major-general  will  soon  cease,  and  we  are 
trying  now  to  get  accustomed  to  living  on  less. 

"I  listen  to  the  citizens  talking  over  the  prospects  of  this 
State,  and  I  think  it  promises  wonders.  There  are  chances 
for  money-making  all  the  time  thrown  in  Armstrong's  way; 
but  he  seems  to  think  that  while  he  is  on  duty  he  had  better 
not  enter  into  business  schemes. 

"  Armstrong  has  such  good  success  in  hunting  and  fishing 
that  he  sends  to  the  other  officers'  messes  turtle,  deer,  duck, 
quail,  squirrels,  doves  and  prairie  chickens.  The  possums 
are  accepted  with  many  a  scrape  and  flourish  by  the  'nigs.' 
I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  our  nine  dogs  sleep  round  our  wagon 
at  night,  quarreling,  growling,  snoring,  but  I  sleep  too  sound- 
ly to  be  kept  awake  by  them." 

The  very  ants  in  Texas,  though  not  poisonous,  were  pro- 
vided with  such  sharp  nippers  that  they  made  me  jump  from 
my  chair  with  a  bound,  if,  after  going  out  of  sight  in  the  neck 
or  sleeves  of  my  dress,  they  attempted  to  cut  their  way  out. 
They  clipped  one's  flesh  with  sharp  little  cuts  that  were  not 
pleasant,  especially  when  there  remained  a  doubt  as  to  whether 
it  might  be  a  scorpion.  We  had  to  guard  our  linen  carefully, 
for  they  cut  it  up  with  ugly  little  slits  that  were  hard  to  mend. 
Besides,  we  had  to  be  careful,  as  we  were  so  cut  off  that  we 
could  not  well  replace  our  few  clothes,  and  it  costs  a  ruinous 
sum  to  send  North,  or  even  to  New  Orleans,  for  anything. 
I  found  this  out  when  the  General  paid  an  express  bill  on  a 


122  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

gown  from  New  York — ordered  before  we  left  the  East — far 
larger  than  the  cost  of  the  material  and  the  dressmaker's  bill 
together.  The  ants  besieged  the  cook-tent  and  set  Uncle 
Charley  and  Eliza  to  growling;  but  an  old  settler  told  them 
to  surround  the  place  with  tan-bark,  and  they  were  thus  freed. 
It  was  all  I  could  do  to  keep  the  General  from  digging  down 
into  the  ant-mounds,  as  he  was  anxious  to  see  into  their  mech- 
anism. The  colored  people  and  citizens  told  us  what  fighters 
they  were,  and  what  injuries  they  inflicted  on  people  who 
molested  them.  We  watched  them  curiously  day  by  day, 
and  wanted  to  see  if  the  residents  had  told  us  stories  about 
their  stripping  the  trees  of  foliage  just  to  guy  us.  (It  has  long 
been  the  favorite  pastime  of  old  residents  to  impose  all  sorts 
of  improbable  tales  on  the  new-comer.)  Whether  this  occur- 
rence happens  often  or  not  I  cannot  say,  but  it  certainly  took 
place  once  while  we  were  there.  One  morning  my  husband 
ran  into  the  tent  and  asked  me  to  hurry  up  with  my  dressing; 
he  had  something  strange  to  show  me,  and  helped  me 
scramble  into  my  clothes. 

The  carriage-road  in  front  of  our  tents  cut  rather  deep  ruts, 
over  which  the  ants  found  a  difficult  passage,  so  they  had  laid 
a  causeway  of  bits  of  cut  leaves,  over  which  they  journeyed 
between  a  tree  and  their  ant-hills,  not  far  from  our  tents  on 
the  other  side  of  the  road.  They  were  still  traveling  back 
and  forth,  each  bearing  a  bit  of  leaf  bigger  than  itself;  and 
a  half-grown  tree  near  us,  which  had  been  full  of  foliage  the 
day  before,  was  entirely  bare. 

For  some  reason  unexplainable,  malarial  fever  broke  out 
among  our  staff.  It  was,  I  suppose,  the  acclimation  to  which 
we  were  being  subjected.  My  father  Custer  was  ill,  and  came 
forth  from  the  siege  whitened  out,  while  the  officers  disap- 
peared to  mourn  over  the  number  of  their  bones  for  a  few  days, 
and  then  crept  out  of  the  tents  as  soon  as  they  could  move. 
My  husband  all  this  time  had  never  even  changed  color. 
His  powers  of  endurance  amazed  me.  He  seemed  to  have 
set  his  strong  will  against  yielding  to  climatic  influences;  but 
after  two  days  of  this  fighting  he  gave  in  and  tossed  himself 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER.  123 

on  our  borrowed  lounge,  a  vanquished  man.  He  was  very 
sick.  Break-bone  fever  had  waited  to  do  its  worst  with  its 
last  victim.  Everything  looked  very  gloomy  to  me.  We 
had  not  even  a  wide  bed,  on  which  it  is  a  little  comfort  if  a 
fever-tossed  patient  can  fling  himself  from  side  to  side.  We 
had  no  ice,  no  fruit,  indeed  nothing  but  quinine.  The  sup- 
plies of  that  drug  to  the  hospital  department  of  Texas  must 
be  sent  by  the  barrel,  it  seemed  to  me,  from  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  consumed. 

Our  devoted  surgeon  came,  of  his  own  accord,  over  and 
over  again,  and  was  untiring  in  his  patience  in  coming  when 
I  sent  for  him  in-between-times,  to  please  me  in  my  anxiety. 
My  husband  was  so  racked  and  tormented  by  pain,  and  burnt 
up  with  fiery  heat,  that  he  hardly  made  the  feeblest  fight 
about  the  medicine,  after  having  attained  the  satisfaction  of 
my  tasting  it,  to  be  sure  that  I  knew  how  bitter  it  was.  As 
the  fever  abated  every  hour,  I  resorted  to  new  modes  of  brib- 
ery and  corruption  to  get  him  to  swallow  the  huge  pill.  My 
stepmother's  cake  had  come  in  the  very  best  time,  for  I  ex- 
tracted the  raisins  and  hid  the  quinine  in  them,  as  my  father 
had  done  when  giving  me  medicine  as  a  child.  It  seemed  to 
me  an  interminable  time  before  the  disease  began  to  yield  to 
the  remedies.  In  reality,  it  was  not  long,  as  the  General  was 
unaccustomed  to  medicine,  and  its  effect  was  more  quickly 
realized  on  that  account.  Even  when  my  husband  began  to 
crawl  about  again,  the  doctor  continued  the  medicine,  and  I 
as  nurse  remorselessly  carried  out  his  directions,  though  I 
had  by  no  means  a  tractable  patient,  as  with  returning  health 
came  restored  combative  powers.  My  husband  noticed  the 
rapid  disappearance  of  the  pills  from  the  table  when  he  lay 
and  watched  the  hated  things  with  relief,  as  he  discovered 
that  he  was  being  aided  in  the  consumption  by  some  unknown 
friend.  One  morning  we  found  the  plate  on  which  the  doc- 
tor had  placed  thirty  the  night  before,  empty.  Of  course  I 
accused  the  General  of  being  the  cause  of  the  strange  disap- 
pearance, and  prepared  to  send  for  more,  inexorable  in  my 
temporary  reign  over  a  weak  man.  He  attempted  a  mild 


124  TENTING   ON  THE  PLAINS. 

kicking  celebration  and  clapping  accompaniment  over  the 
departure  of  his  hated  medicine,  as  much  as  his  rather  un- 
steady feet  and  arms  would  allow,  but  stoutly  denied  having 
done  away  with  the  offending  pills.  The  next  night  we  kept 
watch  over  the  fresh  supply,  and  soon  after  dark  the  ants  be- 
gan their  migrations  up  the  loose  tent-wall  on  the  table-cover 
that  fell  against  the  canvas,  and  while  one  grasped  the  flour- 
mixed  pill  with  his  long  nippers,  the  partner  pushed,  steered 
and  helped  roll  the  plunder  down  the  side  of  the  tent  on  to 
the  ground. 

The  triumph  of  the  citizens  was  complete.  Their  tales 
were  outdone  by  our  actual  experience.  After  that  there  was 
no  story  they  told  us  which  we  did  not  take  in  immediately 
without  question. 

The  hunting  included  alligators  also.  In  the  stream  be- 
low us  there  were  occasional  deep  pools,  darkened  by  the 
overhanging  trees.  As  we  women  walked  on  the  banks,  we 
kept  a  respectful  distance  from  the  places  where  the  bend  in 
the  creek  widened  into  a  pond,  with  still  water  near  the  high 
banks.  In  one  of  these  dark  pools  lived  an  ancient  alligator, 
well  known  to  the  neighbors,  on  which  they  had  been  unsuc- 
cessfully firing  for  years.  The  darkeys  kept  aloof  from  his 
fastness,  and  even  Eliza,  whose  Monday-morning  soul  longed 
for  the  running  water  of  the  stream,  for  she  had  struggled 
with  muddy  water  so  long,  trembled  at  the  tales  of  this  mon- 
ster. She  reminds  me  now  "what  a  lovely  place  to  wash 
that  Gros  wash-house  was,  down  by  the  creek.  But  it  was 
near  the  old  alligator's  pool,  and  I  know  I  hurried  up  my 
wash  awfully,  for  I  was  afraid  he  might  come  up;  foryou  know, 
Miss  Libbie,  it  was  reckoned  that  they  was  mighty  fond  of 
children  and  colored  people." 

One  of  the  young  officers  was  determined  to  get  this  vete- 
ran, and  day  after  day  went  up  and  down  the  creek,  coming 
home  at  night  to  meet  the  jeers  of  the  others,  who  did  not 
believe  that  alligator-hunting  in  a  hot  country  paid.  One 
night  he  stopped  at  our  tent,  radiant  and  jubilant.  He  had 
shot  the  old  disturber  of  the  peace,  the  intimidator  of  the 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER. 


125 


neighborhood,  and  was  going  for  help  to  haul  him  up  to  the 
tents.  He  was  a  monster,  and  it  cost  the  men  tough  pulling 
to  get  him  up  the  bank,  and  then  to  drag  him  down  near  our 
tent.  There  he  was  left  for  us  women  to  see.  We  walked 
around  and  around  him,  very  brave,  and  quite  relieved  to 
think  that  we  were  rid  of  so  dangerous  a  neighbor,  with  a 
real  old  Jonah-and-the-whale  mouth.  The  General  congratu- 
lated the  young  officer  heartily,  and  wished  it  had  been  his 
successful  shot  that  had  ended  him.  Part  of  the  jaw  had 


MEASURING  AN  ALLIGATOR. 

been  shot  away,  evidently  years  ago,  as  it  was  then  calloused 
over.  It  was  distended  to  its  utmost  capacity,  and  propped 
open  with  a  stick.  Nettie  brought  out  a  broom  from  her 
tent,  with  which  to  get  a  rough  estimate  of  his  length,  as  we 
knew  well  that  if  we  did  not  give  some  idea  of  his  size  in  our 
letters  home,  they  would  think  the  climate,  which  enervates 
so  quickly,  had  produced  a  total  collapse  in  our  power  to  tell 
the  truth.  The  broom  did  not  begin  to  answer,  so  we  pieced 
out  the  measure  with  something  else,  in  order  to  arrive  at 
some  kind  of  accuracy.  Then  we  thought  we  would  like  to 
see  how  the  beast  looked  with  his  mouth  closed,  and  the  of- 


126  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

fleers,  patient  in  humoring  our  whims,  pulled  out  the  props. 
There  was  a  sudden  commotion.  The  next  thing  visible  was 
three  sets  of  flying  petticoats  making  for  the  tent,  as  the 
alligator,  revived  by  the  sudden  let-down  of  his  upper  jaw, 
sprawled  out  his  feet  and  began  to  walk  over  the  grass.  The 
crack  of  the  rifle  a  moment  after  brought  the  heads  of  three 
cowards  from  their  tents,  but  after  that  no  woman  hovered 
over  even  his  dead  hide.  The  General  was  convulsed  over 
our  retreat.  The  drying  skin  of  his  majesty,  the  lord  of  the 
pool,  flung  and  flapped  in  the  wind,  suspended  to  the  pole  of 
the  officers'  arbor  for  weeks,  and  it  was  well  tanned  by  the 
air  long  before  they  ceased  to  make  sly  allusions  to  women's 
curiosity. 

At  last,  in  November,  the  sealed  proposals  from  citizens  to 
the  quartermaster  for  the  contract  for  transporting  the  camp 
equipage  and  baggage,  forage,  etc.,  over  the  country,  were 
all  in,  and  the  most  reasonable  of  the  propositions  was  ac- 
cepted. Orders  had  come  to  move  on  to  Austin,  the  capital, 
where  we  were  to  winter.  It  was  with  real  regret  that  I  saw 
our  traps  packed,  the  tents  of  our  pretty  encampment  taken 
down,  the  arbors  thrown  over;  and  our  faces  turned  toward 
the  interior  of  the  State.  The  General,  too  buoyant  not  to 
think  that  every  move  would  better  us,  felt  nothing  but  pleas- 
ure to  be  on  the  march  again.  The  journey  was  very  pleas- 
ant through  the  day,  and  we  were  not  compelled  to  rise  be- 
fore dawn,  for  the  sun  was  by  no  means  unbearable,  as  it  had 
been  in  August.  It  was  cold  at  night,  and  the  wind  blew 
around  the  wagon,  flapping  the  curtains,  under  which  it 
penetrated,  and  lifting  the  covers  unless  they  were  strongly 
secured.  As  to  trying  to  keep  warm  by  a  camp-fire  in  No- 
vember, I  rather  incline  to  the  belief  that  it  is  impossible. 
Instead  of  heat  coming  into  the  tent  where  I  put  on  my  habit 
with  benumbed  fingers,  the  wind  blew  the  smoke  in.  Some- 
times the  mornings  were  so  cold  I  begged  to  be  left  in  bed, 
and  argued  that  the  mules  could  be  attached  and  I  could  go 
straight  on  to  camp,  warm  all  the  way.  But  my  husband 
woke  my  drowsy  pride  by  saying  "the  officers  will  surely 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER.  I2/ 

think  you  a  'feather-bed  soldier," "  which  term  of  derision 
was  applied  to  a  man  who  sought  soft  places  for  duty  and 
avoided  hardships,  driving  when  he  ought  to  ride. 

If  we  all  huddled  around  one  of  my  husband's  splendid 
camp-fires,  I  came  in  for  the  smoke.  The  officers'  pretty  lit- 
tle gallantries  about  "smoke  always  following  beauty,"  did 
not  keep  my  eyes  from  being  blistered  and  blinded.  It  was, 
after  all,  not  a  very  great  hardship,  as  during  the  day  we  had 
the  royal  sun  of  that  Southern  winter. 

My  husband  rode  on  in  advance  every  day  to  select  a  camp. 
He  gave  the  choice  into  my  hands  sometimes,  but  it  was 
hard  to  keep  wood,  water  and  suitable  ground  uppermost ;  I 
wanted  always  the  sheltered,  pretty  spots.  We  enjoyed  every 
mile  of  our  march.  It  rained  sometimes,  pouring  down  so 
suddenly  that  a  retreat  to  the  traveling  wagons  was  impos- 
sible. One  day  I  was  wet  to  the  skin  three  times,  and  my 
husband  wondered  what  the  anxious  father  and  mother,  who 
used  frantically  to  call  "  rubbers  "  after  me,  as  a  girl,  when  I 
tried  to  slip  out  unnoticed,  would  say  to  him  then  ;  but  it 
did  not  hurt  me  in  the  least.  The  General  actually  seemed 
unconscious  of  the  shower.  He  wore  a  soldier's  overcoat, 
pulled  his  broad  hat  down  to  shed  the  rain,  and  encouraged 
me  by  saying  I  was  getting  to  be  a  tough  veteran,  which 
among  us  was  very  high  praise.  Indeed,  we  were  all  then  so 
well,  we  snapped  our  fingers  at  the  once-dreaded  break-bone 
fever.  If  we  broke  the  ice  in  the  bucket  for  our  early  ablu- 
tions, it  became  a  matter  to  joke  over  when  the  sun  was  up 
and  we  all  rode  together,  laughing  and  singing,  at  the  head 
of  the  column. 

Our  march  was  usually  twenty-five  miles,  sometimes  thirty, 
in  a  day.  The  General  and  I  foraged  at  the  farms  we  passed, 
and  bought  good  butter,  eggs  and  poultry.  He  began  to 
collect  turkeys  for  the  winter,  until  we  had  enough  for  a 
year.  Uncle  Charley  was  doing  his  best  to  awe  Eliza  with 
his  numerous  new  dishes.  Though  he  was  a  preacher, 
he  put  on  that  profession  on  Sundays  as  he  did  his  best 
coat ;  and  if  during  the  week  the  fire  smoked,  or  a  dog 


128  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

stole  some  prepared  dish  that  was  standing  one  side  to 
cool,  he  expressed  himself  in  tones  not  loud  but  deep,  and 
had  as  extensive  a  collection  of  negro  oaths  as  Texas  afforded, 
which,  I  believe,  is  saying  a  good  deal.  My  husband,  ob- 
servant as  he  always  was,  wondered  what  possessed  the  old 
fellow  when  preparing  poultry  for  dinner.  We  used  slyly  to 
watch  him  go  one  side,  seize  the  chicken,  and,  while  swiftly 
wringing  its  neck,  mumble  some  unintelligible  words  to  him- 
self, then  throw  down  the  fowl  in  a  matter-of-fact  way,  and 
sit  down  to  pluck  it.  We  were  mystified,  and  had  to  get 
Eliza  to  explain  this  peculiar  proceeding  that  went  on  day 
after  day.  She  said  that  "  though  Uncle  Charley  does  swear 
so  powerful,  he  has  a  kind  of  superstition  that  poultry  has  a 
hereafter."  Evidently  he  thought  it  was  not  right  to  send 
them  to  their  last  home  without  what  he  intended  for  a  fu- 
neral oration.  Sometimes  he  said,  as  fast  as  his  nimble  old 
tongue  could  clatter  : 

"  Hark,  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  sound, 

Mine  ears  attend  the  cry  ! 
Ye  living  hens,  come  view  the  ground 
Where  you  must  shortly  die." 

Once  after  this  my  husband,  by  hiding,  contrived  to  be 
present,  though  unseen,  at  one  of  these  funeral  ceremonies  : 

"  Princes,  this  clay  must  be  your  bed, 

In  spite  of  all  your  towers, 
The  tall,  the  wise,  the  reverend  head, 
Must  lie  as  low  as  yours." 

He  so  timed  his  verses  that  with  one  wrench  he  gave  the 
final  turn  to  the  poor  chicken's  head  as  he  jerked  out  the 
last  line.  My  husband,  perfectly  convulsed  himself,  was  in 
terror  for  fear  Uncle  Charley  would  have  his  feelings  hurt  by 
seeing  us,  and  hearing  my  giggling,  and  I  nearly  smothered 
myself  in  the  attempt  to  get  back  to  our  tent,  where  the 
General  threw  himself  down  with  shrieks  of  laughter. 

We  varied  our  march  by  many  an  exciting  race  after  jack- 


A   TEXAS   NORTHER.  I2Q 

rabbits.  The  chapparral  bushes  defeated  us  frequently  by 
making  such  good  hiding-places  for  the  hare.*  If  we  came 
to  a  long  stretch  of  open  prairie,  and  a  rabbit  lifted  his  doe- 
like  head  above  the  grass,  the  General  uttered  a  wild  whoop 
to  his  dog,  a  "  Come  on  ! "  to  me,  and  off  we  dashed..  Some 
of  the  staff  occasionally  joined,  while  our  father  Custer  bent 
over  his  old  roan  horse,  mildly  struck  him  with  a  spur,  and 
was  in  at  the  death.  The  ground  was  excellent  for  a  run — 
level  and  grassy.  We  had  a  superb  greyhound  called  Byron, 
that  was  devoted  to  the  General,  and  after  a  successful  chase 
it  was  rewarded  with  many  a  demonstration  of  affection.  He 
was  the  most  lordly  dog,  I  think,  I  ever  saw— powerful,  with 
deep  chest,  and  carrying  his  head  in  a  royal  way.  When  he 
started  for  a  run,  with  his  nostrils  distended  and  his  delicate 
ears  laid  back  on  his  noble  head,  each  bound  sent  him  flying 
through  the  air.  He  hardly  touched  the  elastic  cushions  of 
his  feet  to  earth,  before  he  again  was  spread  out  like  a  dark, 
straight  thread.  This  gathering  and  leaping  must  be  seen, 
to  realize  how  marvelous  is  the  rapidity  and  how  the  motion 
seems  flying,  almost,  as  the  ground  is  scorned  except  at  a 
sort  of  spring  bound.  He  trotted  back  to  the  General,  if  he 
happened  to  be  in  advance,  with  the  rabbit  in  his  mouth, 
and,  holding  back  his  proud  head,  delivered  the  game  only 
to  his  chief.  The  tribute  that  a  woman  pays  to  beauty  in 
any  form,  I  gave  to  Byron,  but  I  never  cared  much  for  him. 
A  greyhound's  heart  could  be  put  into  a  thimble.  Byron 
cared  for  the  General  as  much  as  his  cold  soul  could  for  any 
one,  but  it  was  not  to  be  compared  with  the  dear  Ginnie  : 
she  was  all  love,  she  was  almost  human. 

The  dog  was  in  an  injured  state  with  me  much  of  the  time. 
In  quarters  he  resented  all  my  rights.  My  husband  had  a 
great  fashion  of  flinging  himself  on  the  bed,  or  even  on  the 
floor,  if  it  was  carpeted.  He  told  me  he  believed  he  must 

*  I  never  liked  hunting  when  the  game  was  killed,  and  I  was 
relieved  to  find  how  often  the  hare  rabbit  escaped  into  the 
thickets. 


130  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

unconsciously  have  acquired  the  habit  at  West  Point,  where 
the  zeal  of  the  cadet  seems  divided  between  his  studies  and 
an  effort  to  keep  the  wrinkles  out  of  the  regulation  white 
pantaloons,  which,  being  of  duck,  are  easily  creased.  What 
punishment  Government  sees  fit  to  inflict  for  each  separate 
crease,  I  don't  know,  but  certainly  its  embryo  soldiers  have 
implanted  in  them  a  fear  of  consequences,  even  regarding 
rumpled  linen.  As  soon  as  the  General  tossed  himself  on 
the  bed,  Byron  walked  to  him  and  was  invited  to  share  the 
luxury.  "  Certainly,"  my  husband  used  to  say,  sarcastically  ; 
"walk  right  up  here  on  this  clean  white  spread,  without 
troubling  yourself  to  care  whether  your  feet  are  covered  with 
mud  or  not.  Your  Aunt  Eliza  wants  you  to  lie  on  nice  white 
counterpanes  ;  she  washes  them  on  purpose  for  you."  By- 
ron answered  this  invitation  by  licking  his  host's  hand,  and 
turning  in  the  most  scornful  manner  on  me,  as  I  uttered  a 
mild  protest  regarding  his  muddy  paws.  The  General  quickly 
remarked  that  I  made  invidious  distinctions,  as  no  spread 
seemed  too  fine  or  white  for  Ginnie,  in  my  mind,  while  if 
Eliza  happened  to  enter,  a  pair  of  blazing  eyes  and  an  ener- 
getically expressed  opinion  of  Byron  ensued,  and  he  retorted 
by  lifting  his  upper  lip  over  some  of  the  whitest  fangs  I  ever 
saw.  The  General,  still  aiding  and  abetting,  asked  the  dog 
to  let  Aunt  Eliza  see  what  an  intelligent,  knowing  animal  he 
was — how  soon  he  distinguished  his  friends  from  his  foes. 
Such  an  exasperating  brute,  and  such  a  tormenting  master, 
were  best  left  alone.  But  I  was  tired,  and  wanted  to  lie  down, 
so  1  told  Eliza  that  if  she  would  stand  there,  I  would  try  the 
broom,  a  woman's  weapon,  on  his  royal  highness.  Byron 
wouldn't  move,  and  growled  even  at  me.  Then  I  quite 
meekly  took  what  little  place  was  left,  the  General's  sense  of 
mischief,  and  his  peculiar  fondness  for  not  interfering  in  a 
fight,  now  coming  in  to  keep  him  silent.  The  dog  rolled 
over,  and  shammed  sleep,  but  soon  planting  his  feet  against 
my  back,  which  was  turned  in  high  dudgeon,  he  pushed  and 
pushed,  seemingly  without  premeditation,  his  dreadful  eyes 
shut,  until  I  was  nearly  shoved  off.  I  was  conquered,  and 


A   TEXAS    NORTHER.  13! 

rose,  afraid  of  the  dog  and  momentarily  irritated  at  my  de- 
feat and  his  tyranny,  while  Eliza  read  a  lesson  to  the  Gen- 
eral. She  said,  "Now  see  what  you've  done.  You  keer 
more  for  that  pesky,  sassy  old  hound  than  you  does  for  Miss 
Libbie.  Ginnel,  I'd  be  'shamed,  if  I  was  you.  What  would 
your  mother  Custer  think  of  you  now  ?  "  But  my  feelings 
were  not  seriously  hurt,  and  the  General,  having  watched  to 
the  last  to  see  how  far  the  brute  would  carry  his  jealousy, 
gave  him  a  kick  that  sent  him  sprawling  on  the  floor,  spring- 
ing up  to  restore  me  to  my  place  and  close  the  colored  ha- 
rangue that  was  going  on  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Eliza 
rarely  dignified  me  with  the  honor  of  being  referee  in  any 
disputed  question.  She  used  to  say,  "No  matter  whether 
it's  right  or  wrong,  Miss  Libbie's  sho'  to  side  with  the  Gin- 
nel." Her  droll  way  of  treating  him  like  a  big  boy  away 
from  home  for  the  first  time,  always  amused  him.  She  threat- 
ened to  tell  his  mother,  and  brought  up  that  sainted  woman 
in  all  our  encounters,  as  she  did  in  the  dog  episode  just  men- 
tioned, as  if  the  very  name  would  restore  order  at  once,  and 
give  Eliza  her  own  way  in  regulating  us.  But  dear  mother 
Custer  had  been  in  the  midst  of  too  many  happy  scuffles,  and 
the  centre  of  too  many  friendly  fisticuffs  among  her  active, 
irrepressible  boys,  in  the  old  farm-days,  for  the  mention  of 
her  name  to  restore  order  in  our  turbulent  household. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

LIFE   IN   A  TEXAS    TOWN. 

ONE  day  we  heard  shout  upon  shout  from  many  a  soldier's 
throat  in  camp.  The  headquarters  guard  and  officers'  ser- 
vants, even  the  officers  themselves,  joined  in  the  hallooing, 
and  we  ran  out  to  see  what  could  be  the  matter.  It  was  our 
lordly  Byron.  Stately  and  superb  as  he  usually  was,  he  had 
another  side  to  his  character,  and  now  he  was  racing  up 
from  camp,  a  huge  piece  of  meat  in  his  jaws,  which  he  had 
stolen  from  the  camp-kettle  where  it  was  boiling  for  the  sol- 
diers' dinner.  His  retreat  was  accompanied  with  every  sort 
of  missile — sticks,  boots  and  rocks — but  this  dog,  that  made 
himself  into  a  "greased  streak  of  lightning,"  as  a  colored 
woman  described  him,  bounded  on,  untouched  by  the  flying 
hail  of  the  soldiers'  wrath.  The  General  did  not  dare  to 
shout  and  dance  in  sight  of  the  men,  over  what  he  thought 
so  cunning  in  this  hateful  dog,  as  he  was  not  protected  by 
the  friendly  walls  of  our  tent  ;  but  he  chuckled,  and  his 
eyes  danced,  for  the  brute  dropped  the  hot  meat  when 
he  had  looked  about  to  discover  how  close  his  pursuers 
were,  and  then,  seeing  the  enemy  nearing  him,  picked  it 
up  and  distanced  them  all.  The  General  went  back  to  his 
tent,  and  called  Eliza,  to  torment  her  with  an  account  of 
what  "  her  favorite  "  had  done  all  by  himself.  She  spared 
no  words  to  express  her  opinion  of  the  hated  hound,  for  By- 
ron  was  no  respecter  of  persons  when  the  sly  side  of  his 
character  was  uppermost.  He  stole  his  master's  dinner  just 
as  readily  as  the  neighbors'.  Eliza  said  no  one  could  tell 
how  many  times  he  had  made  off  with  a  part  of  her  dinner, 
just  dished  up  to  be  served,  and  then  gone  off  on  a  prowl, 

132 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  133 

"  after  he'd  gorged  hissel,"  as  she  expressed  it,  "  hidin'  from 
the  other  dogs,  and  burying  it  in  jest  such  a  stingy  way  you 
might  'spect  from  such  a  worthless,  plunderin'  old  villain." 

The  march  to  Austin  was  varied  by  fording.  All  the 
streams  and  rivers  were  crossed  in  that  manner,  except  one, 
where  we  used  the  pontoon  bridge.  The  Colorado  we  found 
too  high  to  ford,  and  so  made  a  detour  of  some  miles.  The 
citizens  were  not  unfriendly,  while  there  was  a  total  cessation 
of  work  on  the  part  of  the  negroes  until  our  column  went 
by.  They  sat  on  the  fences  like  a  row  of  black  crows,  and 
with  their  usual  politeness  made  an  attempt  to  answer  ques- 
tions the  troops  put  to  them,  which  were  unanswerable,  even 
in  the  ingenious  brain  of  the  propounder.  "Well,  uncle, 
how  far  is  it  ten  miles  down  the  road  from  here?  "  If  their 
feelings  were  hurt  by  such  irrepressible  fun,  they  were  soon 
healed  by  the  lively  trade  they  kept  up  in  chickens,  eggs  and 
butter. 

The  citizens  sometimes  answered  the  General's  salute,  and 
his  interested  questions  about  the  horse  they  rode,  by  joining 
us  for  a  short  distance  on  the  march.  The  horseflesh  of 
Texas  was  a  delight  to  him;  but  I  could  not  be  so  interested 
in  the  fine  points  as  to  forget  the  disfiguring  brands  that 
were  often  upon  the  foreshoulder,  as  well  as  the  flank. 
They  spoke  volumes  for  the  country  where  a  man  has  to 
sear  a  thoroughbred  with  a  hot  iron,  to  ensure  his  keeping 
possession.  Father  Custer  used  to  say,  "  What  sort  of  coun- 
try is  this,  anyhow,  when  a  man,  in  order  to  keep  his  proper- 
ty, has  got  to  print  the  whole  constitution  of  the  United 
States  on  his  horse  ?  "  The  whole  get-up  of  the  Texans  was 
rather  cumbersome,  it  seemed  to  me,  though  they  rode  per- 
fectly. They  frequently  had  a  Mexican  saddle,  heavily  orna- 
mented with  silver  on  the  high  pommel,  and  everywhere  else 
that  it  could  be  added.  Even  the  design  of  the  stamped 
leather,  for  which  Mexico  is  famous,  was  embroidered  with 
silver  bullion.  The  stirrup  had  handsome  leather  covers, 
while  a  fringe  of  thongs  fell  almost  to  the  ground,  to  aid  in 
pushing  their  way  through  the  tall  prairie  grass.  Sometimes 


134  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

the  saddle-cloth,  extending  to  the  crupper,  was  of  fur.  The 
bridle  and  bit  were  rich  with  silver  also.  On  the  massive  sil- 
ver pommel  hung  an  incongruous  coil  of  horse-hair  rope, 
disfiguring  and  ugly.  There  was  an  iron  picket-pin  attached 
to  the  lariat,  which  we  soon  learned  was  of  inestimable  value 
in  the  long  rides  that  the  Texans  took.  If  a  man  made  a 
halt,  he  encircled  himself  with  this  prickly  lariat  and  lay 
down  securely,  knowing  that  no  snake  could  cross  that  bar- 
rier. In  a  land  of  venomous  serpents,  it  behooved  a  man  to 
carry  his  own  abatis  everywhere.  The  saddle  was  also  secur- 
ed by  a  cinch  or  girth  of  cow's-hair,  which  hard  riders  found 
a  great  help  in  keeping  the  saddle  firm.  The  Texan  himself, 
though  not  often  wearing  the  high-crowned,  silver-embroid- 
ered Mexican  sombrero,  wore  usually  a  wide-brimmed  felt 
hat,  on  which  the  General  afterward  doted,  as  the  felt  was 
of  superior  quality.  If  the  term  "  dude  "  had  been  invented 
then,  it  would  often  have  applied  to  a  Texan  horseman. 
The  hair  was  frequently  long,  and  they  wore  no  waistcoat, 
I  concluded  because  they  could  better  display  the  vast  ex- 
panse of  shirt-front.  While  the  General  and  his  casual  com- 
panion in  our  march  talked  horse,  too  absorbed  to  notice 
anything  else,  I  used  to  lose  myself  in  the  contemplation  of 
the  maze  of  tucks,  puffs  and  embroidery  of  this  cambric  fin- 
ery, ornamented  with  three  old-fashioned  bosom-pins.  The 
wearer  seemed  to  me  to  represent  two  epochs:  the  fine  linen, 
side-saddle  and  blooded  horse  belonged  to  "  befo'  the  war;  " 
while  the  ragged  elbows  of  the  coat-sleeves,  and  the  worn 
boots,  were  decidedly  "since  the  war."  If  the  shirt-front 
was  intricate  in  its  workmanship,  the  boots  were  ignored  by 
the  placid  owner. 

They  usually  had  the  Mexican  serape  strapped  to  the  back 
of  the  saddle,  or,  if  it  was  cold,  as  it  was  in  our  late  Novem- 
ber march,  they  put  their  head  through  the  opening  in  the 
middle,  so  woven  for  that  purpose,  and  flung  the  end  across 
their  breast  and  over  one  shoulder  in  a  picturesque  manner. 
The  bright  hues  of  the  blanket,  dyed  by  the  Indians  from  the 
juice  of  the  prickly  pear,  its  soft,  flexible  folds  having  been 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  135 

woven  in  a  hand-loom,  made  a  graceful  and  attractive  bit  of 
color,  which  was  not  at  all  out  of  place  in  that  country. 
These  blankets  were  valuable  possessions.  They  were  so 
pliable  and  perfectly  water-proof,  that  they  protected  one 
from  every  storm.  %  We  had  a  pair,  which  we  used  through 
every  subsequent  campaign,  and  when  the  cold  in  Kansas 
and  Dakota  became  almost  unbearable,  sometimes,  after  the 
long  trial  of  a  journey  in  the  wagon,  my  husband  used  to 
say,  "  We  will  resort  to  extreme  measures,  Libbie,  and  wrap 
you  in  the  Mexican  blankets."  They  were  the  warmest  of 
all  our  wraps.  Nothing  seemed  to  fade  them,  and  even  when 
burnt  with  Tom's  cigarette  ashes,  or  stuck  through  with  the 
General's  spurs,  they  did  not  ravel,  as  do  other  fabrics.  They 
have  hung  as  portieres  in  my  little  home,  and  the  design  and 
coloring  are  so  like  the  Persian  rug  on  the  floor,  that  it  seems 
to  be  an  argument  to  prove  that  Mr.  Ignatius  Donnelly,  in 
his  theory  of  Atlantis,  is  right,  and  that  we  once  had  a  land 
highway  between  the  East  and  Mexico,  and  that  the  reason 
the  Aztec  now  uses  the  designs  on  his  pottery  and  in  his 
weaving  is,  that  his  ancestors  brought  over  the  first  sketches 
on  papyrus.* 

A  Texan  travels  for  comfort  and  safety  rather  than  for 
style.  If  a  norther  overtakes  him,  he  dismounts  and  drives 
the  picket-pin  into  the  ground,  thus  tethering  his  horse, 
which  turns  his  back,  the  better  to  withstand  the  oncoming 
wind.  The  master  throws  himself,  face  down,  in  the  long' 


*  In  a  town  of  Mexico  last  year  I  saw  these  small  looms  with 
blankets  in  them,  in  various  stages  of  progress,  in  many  cottages. 
Among  the  Indians  the  rude  loom  is  carried  about  in  the  moun- 
tain villages,  and  with  some  tribes  there  is  a  superstition  about 
finishing  the  blankets  in  the  same  place  where  they  were  begun. 
A  squaw  will  sometimes  have  one  half  done,  and  if  an  order  is 
given  her  she  will  not  break  over  her  rule  to  finish  it  if  a  move  is 
made  in  the  midst  of  her  work.  She  waits  until  the  next  year, 
when  her  people  return  to  the  same  camp,  as  is  the  custom  when 
the  Indian  seeks  certain  game  or  grazing,  or  to  cut  longer  poles. 


136  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

grass,  buried  in  his  blanket,  and  thus  awaits  the  termination 
of  the  fury  with  which  the  storm  sweeps  a  Texas  prairie. 

Sometimes  one  of  the  planters,  after  riding  a  distance  with 
us,  talking  the  county  over,  and  taking  in  every  point  of  our 
horses  as  he  rode,  made  his  adieus  and  said  he  was  now  at 
his  own  place,  where  he  turned  in.  The  General  followed 
his  fine  thoroughbred  with  longing  eyes,  and  was  more  than 
astonished  to  find  in  what  stables  they  kept  these  valuable 
and  delicate  animals.  No  matter  if  the  house  was  habit- 
able, the  stable  was  usually  in  a  state  of  careless  dilapidation. 
Doors  swung  on  one  hinge,  and  clapboards  were  torn  off 
here  and  there,  while  the  warped  roof  was  far  from  weather- 
proof. Even  though  Texas  is  in  the  "Sunny  South,"  the 
first  sharp  norther  awakens  one  to  the  knowledge  that  it  is  not 
always  summer.  Sometimes  these  storms  are  quickly  over, 
but  frequently  they  last  three  days.  This  carelessness  about 
stabling  stock  was  not  owing  to  the  depredations  of  an  invad- 
ing army.  We  were  the  first  "  Yankees  "  they  had  seen.  It 
was  the  general  shiftlessness  that  creeps  into  one's  veins. 
We  were  not  long  there  ourselves  before  climatic  influence 
had  its  effect  on  even  the  most  active  among  us. 

Before  we  reached  Austin,  several  citizens  sent  out  invita- 
tions for  us  to  come  to  their  houses;  but  I  knew  the  General 
would  not  accept,  and,  cold  as  the  nights  were,  I  felt  unwill- 
ing to  lose  a  day  of  camp  life.  We  pitched  our  tents  on 
rolling  ground  in  the  vicinity  of  Austin,  where  we  overlooked 
a  pretty  town  of  stuccoed  houses  that  appeared  summery  in 
the  midst  of  the  live-oak's  perennial  green.  The  State 
House,  Land  Office,  and  governor's  mansion  looked  regal  to  us 
so  long  bivouacking  in  the  forest  and  on  uncultivated  prairies. 
The  governor  offered  for  our  headquarters  the  Blind  Asylum, 
which  had  been  closed  during  the  war.  This  possessed  one 
advantage  that  we  were  glad  to  improve:  there  was  room 
enough  for  all  the  staff,  and  a  long  saloon  parlor  and  dining- 
room  for  our  hops  during  the  winter.  By  this  time  two  pret- 
ty, agreeable  women,  wives  of  staff-officers,  were  added  to  our 
circle.  Still,  I  went  into  the  building  with  regret.  The 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  137 

wagon  in  which  the  wind  had  rocked  me  to  sleep  so  often, 
and  which  had  proved  such  a  stronghold  against  the  crawling 
foes  of  the  country,  was  consigned  to  the  stable  with  a  sigh. 
Camp  life  had  more  pleasures  than  hardships. 

There*  were  three  windows  in  our  room,  which  we  opened 
at  night;  but,  notwithstanding  the  air  that  circulated,  the 
feeling,  after  having  been  so  long  out  of  doors,  was  suffocat- 
ing. The  ceiling  seemed  descending  to  smother  us.  There 
was  one  joy — reveille  could  ring  out  on  the  dawning  day  and 
there  was  no  longer  imperative  necessity  to  spring  from  a 
warm  bed  and  make  ablutions  in  ice-water.  There  is  a  good 
deal  of  that  sort  of  mental  snapping  of  the  fingers  on  the 
part  of  campaigners  when  they  are  again  stationary  and  need 
not  prepare  for  a  march.  Civilization  and  a  looking-glass 
must  now  be  assumed,  as  it  would  no  longer  do  to  rough  it 
and  ignore  appearances,  after  we  had  moved  into  a  house, 
and  were  to  live  like  "  folks."  Besides,  we  soon  began  to  be 
invited  by  the  townspeople  to  visit  them.  Refined,  agreeable 
and  well-dressed  women  came  to  see  us,  and,  womanlike, 
we  fan  our  eyes  over  their  dresses.  They  were  embroidered 
and  trimmed  richly  with  lace — "  befo'  the  war  "  finery  or  from 
the  cargo  of  a  blockade  runner;  but  it  was  all  strange  enough 
in  such  an  isolated  State.  Almost  everything  was  then 
brought  from  the  terminus  of  the  Brenham  Railroad  to  Aus- 
tin, 150  miles,  by  ox-team.  We  had  been  anxionsly  expect- 
ed for  some  time,  and  there  was  no  manner  of  doubt  that 
the  arrival  of  the  Division  was  a  great  relief  to  the  reputable 
of  both  sides.  They  said  so  frankly — the  returned  Confed- 
erate officers  and  the  "stay-at-home  rangers,"  as  well  as  the 
newly  appointed  Union  governor. 

Texas  was  then  a  "go-as-you-please"  State,  and  the  law- 
lessness was  terrible.  The  returned  Confederate  soldiers 
were  poor,  and  did  not  know  how  to  set  themselves  to  work, 
and  in  many  instances  preferred  the  life  of  a  freebooter.  It 
was  so  easy,  if  a  crime  was  committed,  to  slip  into  Mexico, 
for  thaugh  it  was  inaccessible  except  by  stage  or  on  horse- 
back, a  Texan  would  not  mind  a  forced  march  over  the 


138  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

country  to  the  Rio  Grande.  There  were  then  but  one  or  two 
short  railroads  in  operation.  The  one  from  Galveston  to 
Brenham  was  the  principal  one,  while  telegraph  lines  were 
not  in  use.  The  stage  to  Brenham  was  our  one  means  of 
communication  with  the  outside  world. 

It  was  hard  for  the  citizens  who  had  remained  at  home  to 
realize  that  war  was  over,  and  some  were  unwilling  to  believe 
there  ever  had  been  an  emancipation  proclamation.  In  the 
northern  part  of  the  State  they  were  still  buying  and  selling 
slaves.  The  lives  of  the  newly  appointed  United  States  of- 
ficers were  threatened  daily,  and  it  was  an  uneasy  head  that 
wore  the  gubernatorial  crown.  I  thought  them  braver  men 
than  many  who  had  faced  the  enemy  in  battle.  The  unseen, 
lurking  foe  that  hides  under  cover  of  darkness  was  their  ter- 
ror. They  held  themselves  valiantly;  but  one  wife  and 
daughter  were  on  my  mind  night  after  night,  as  from  dark 
till  dawn  they  slept  uneasily,  and  started  from  their  rooms  out 
into  the  halls  at  every  strange  sound.  The  General  and  1 
thought  the  courageous  daughter  had  enough  brave,  devot- 
ed blood  in  her  veins  to  distill  a  portion  into  the  heart  of 
many  a  soldier  who  led  a  forlorn  hope.  They  told  us  that 
in  the  early  part  of  the  war  the  girl  had  known  of  a  Union 
flag  in  the  State  House,  held  in  derision  and  scornfully 
treated  by  the  extremists.  She  and  her  younger  brother 
climbed  upon  the  roof  of  a  wing  of  the  building,  after  dark, 
entered  a  window  of  the  Capitol,  found  the  flag,  concealed  it 
in  the  girl's  clothing,  and  made  their  perilous  descent  safely. 
The  father  of  such  a  daughter  might  well  prize  her  watchful- 
ness of  his  safety,  as  she  vigilantly  kept  it  up  during  our  stay, 
and  was  equal  to  a  squadron  of  soldiers.  She  won  our  ad- 
miration; and  our  bachelor  officers  paid  the  tribute  that 
brave  men  always  pay  to  courageous,  unselfish  women,  for 
she  danced,  rode  and  walked  with  them,  and  when  she  was 
not  so  engaged,  their  orderlies  held  their  horses  before  the 
official  door,  while  they  improved  every  hour  allowed  them 
within  the  hospitable  portal. 

It  was  a  great  relief  to  find  a  Southern  State  that  was  not 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  139 

devastated  by  the  war.  The  homes  destroyed  in  Virginia 
could  not  fail  to  move  a  woman's  heart,  as  it  was  women  and 
children  that  suffered  from  such  destruction.  In  Texas 
nothing  seemed  to  have  been  altered.  I  suppose  some  profit- 
ed, for  blockade-running  could  be  carried  on  from  the  ports 
of  that  great  State,  and  there  was  always  Mexico  from  which 
to  draw  supplies. 

In  our  daily  rides  we  found  the  country  about  Austin  de- 
lightful. The  roads  were  smooth  and  the  surface  rolling. 
Indeed,  there  was  one  high  hill,  called  Mount  Brunnel, 
where  we  had  picnics  and  enjoyed  the  fine  view,  far  and 
near,  taking  one  of  the  bands  of  the  regular  regiments  from 
the  North  that  joined  us  soon  after  our  arrival.  Mount 
Brunnel  was  so  steep  we  had  to  dismount  and  climb  a  part 
of  the  distance.  The  band  played  the  "  Anvil  Chorus,"  and 
the  sound  descended  through  the  valley  grandly.  The  river, 
filled  with  sand-bars  and  ugly  on  close  examination,  looked 
like  a  silver  ribbon.  At  that  height,  the  ripened  cotton,  at 
certain  seasons  of  the  year,  looked  like  fields  of  foam.  The 
thermometer  was  over  eighty  before  we  lefj:  the  lowlands; 
but  at  the  altitude  to  which  we  climbed  the  air  was  cool. 
We  even  went  once  to  the  State  Insane  Asylum,  taking  the 
band,  when  the  attendants  asked  if  dance  music  might  be 
played,  and  we  watched  with  wonder  the  quadrille  of  an  in- 
sane eight. 

The  favorite  ride  for  my  husband  was  across  the  Colorado 
to  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Asylum.  There  seemed  to  be  a  fas- 
cination for  him  in  the  children,  who  were  equally  charmed 
with  the  young  soldier  that  silently  watched  their  pretty,  pa- 
thetic exhibitions  of  intelligent  speech  by  gesture.  My  hus- 
band riveted  his  gaze  on  their  speaking  eyes,  and  as  their 
instructor  spelt  the  passions  of  love,  hatred,  remorse  and 
reverence  on  his  fingers,  one  little  girl  represented  them  by 
singularly  graceful  gestures,  charming  him,  and  filling  his 
eyes  with  tears,  which  he  did  not  seek  to  hide.  The  pupils 
were  from  ten  to  sixteen  years  of  age.  Their  supple  wrists 
were  a  delight  to  us,  and  the  tiny  hands  of  a  child  of  the 


I4O  TENTING    ON   THE    PLAINS. 

matron,  whom  the  General  held,  talked  in  a  cunning  way  to 
its  playmates,  who,  it  knew,  could  not  comprehend  its  speech. 
It  was  well  that  the  Professor  was  hospitality  itself,  and  did 
not" mind  a  cavalcade  dashing  up  the  road  to  his  house.  My 
husband,  when  he  did  not  openly  suggest  going,  used  some 
subterfuge  as  trivial  as  going  for  water -cress,  that  grew  in  a 
pond  near  the  Asylum.  The  children  knew  him,  and  wel- 
comed him  with  lustrous,  eloquent  eyes,  and  went  untiringly 
through  their  little  exhibitions,  learning  to  bring  him  their 
compositions,  examples  and  maps,  for  his  commendation. 
How  little  we  thought  then  that  the  lessons  he  was  taking, 
in  order  to  talk  with  the  children  he  learned  to  love,  would 
soon  come  into  use  while  sitting  round  a  camp-fire  and  mak- 
ing himself  understood  by  Indians.  Of  course,  their  sign- 
language  is  wholly  their  own,  but  it  is  the  same  method  of 
using  the  simplest  signs  as  expressive  of  thought.  It  was  a 
long,  pleasant  ride ;  its  only  drawback  to  me  being  the  ford- 
ing of  the  river,  which  had  quicksands  and  a  rapid  current. 
The  Colorado  was  low,  but  the  river-bed  was  wide  and  filled 
with  sand-bars.  The  mad  torrent  that  the  citizens  told  us 
of  in  freshets,  we  did  not  see.  If  I  followed  my  husband, 
as  Custis  Lee  had  learned  to  do,  I  found  myself  guided  safe- 
ly, but  it  sometimes  happened  that  our  party  entered  the 
river,  laughing  and  talking  so  earnestly,  noisily  and  excited- 
ly that  we  forgot  caution.  One  lesson  was  enough;  the 
sensation  of  the  sinking  of  the  horse's  hindlegs  in  quick- 
sands is  not  to  be  forgotten.  The  loud  cry  of  the  General 
to  "  saw  on  the  bit  "  or  whip  my  horse,  excited,  frightened 
directions  from  the  staff  to  turn  to  the  right  or  the  left,  Cus- 
tis Lee  trembling  and  snorting  with  fear,  but  responding  to 
a  sharp  cut  of  my  whip  (for  I  rarely  struck  him),  and  we 
plunged  on  to  a  firmer  soil,  wiser  for  all  the  future  on  account 
of  that  moment  of  serious  peril. 

We  seldom  rode  through  the  town,  as  my  husband  dis- 
liked the  publicity  that  a  group  of  cavalrymen  must  necessa- 
rily cause  in  a  city  street.  If  we  were  compelled  to,  the  staff 
and  Tom  pointed  out  one  after  another  of  the  loungers  about 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  141 

the  stores,  or  the  horseman,  who  had  killed  his  man.  It 
seemed  to  be  thought  the  necessary  thing,  to  establish  the 
Texan's  idea  of  courage,  to  have  either  fought  in  duels,  or, 
by  waylaying  the  enemy,  to  have  killed  from  one  to  five  men. 
The  Southern  climate  seems  to  keep  alive  a  feud  that  our 
cold  Northern  winters  freeze  out.  Bad  blood  was  never  kept 
in  abeyance;  they  had  out  their  bursts  of  temper  when  the 
attack  of  rage  came  on.  Each  man,  even  the  boys  of  twelve, 
went  armed.  I  used  to  wonder  at  the  humped-up  coats,  until 
a  norther,  before  which  we  were  one  day  scudding  for  safety, 
lifted  the  coats  of  men  making  a  similar  dash,  and  the  pistol 
was  revealed. 

It  was  the  favorite  pastime  of  our  men  (having  concocted 
the  scheme  with  the  General)  to  ride  near  some  of  the  out- 
skirts, and,  when  we  reached  some  lone  tree,  tell  me  that 
from  that  limb  a  murdered  man  had  lately  swung.  This 
grim  joke  was  often  practiced  on  me,  in  order  that  the  shud- 
dering horror  and  the  start  Custis  Lee  and  I  made,  to  skim 
over  the  country  away  from  such  a  hated  spot,  might  be  en- 
joyed. I  came  to  think  the  Texas  trees  bore  that  human 
fruit  a  little  too  often  for  truth;  but  some  of  the  citizens 
gloated  over  these  scenes  of  horror,  and  added  a  lamp-post 
in  town  to  the  list  of  localities  from  which,  in  future,  I  must 
turn  away  my  head. 

The  negroes  in  Texas  and  Louisiana  were  the  worst  in  all 
the  South.  The  border  States  had  commonly  sold  their 
most  insubordinate  slaves  into  these  two  distant  States.*  For- 


*  In  order  to  gain  some  idea  of  the  immense  territory  in  which 
our  troops  were  attempting  to  restore  order,  I  have  only  to  re- 
mind the  reader  that  Texas  is  larger  than  either  the  German  or 
the  Austrian  Empire.  The  area  of  the  State  is  274,356  square 
miles.  It  is  as  large  as  France,  Belgium,  England  and  Wales  all 
combined.  If  we  could  place  the  northwestern  corner  of  Texas 
at  Chicago,  its  most  southerly  point  would  be  at  Jacksonville, 
Fla. ,  its  most  easterly  at  Petersburg,  Va. ,  and  its  most  westerly 
in  the  interior  of  Missouri.  It  would  thus  cover  the  entire  States 


142  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

tunately,  our  now  well-disciplined  Division  and  the  regular 
cavalry  kept  everything  in  a  better  condition;  but  there  were 
constantly  individual  cases  of  outrageous  conduct,  and  often 
of  crime,  among  whites  and  blacks,  high  and  ^low.  Texas 
had  so  long  been  looked  upon  as  a  sort  of  "  city  of  refuge  " 
by  outlaws,  that  those  whom  the  other  States  refused  to  har- 
bor came  to  that  locality.  A  country  reached  only  by  sea 
from  the  south  or  by  a  wagon-train  from  the  north,  and 
through  which  no  telegraph  lines  ran  until  after  we  came, 
would  certainly  offer  an  admirable  hiding-place  for  those  who 
leave  their  country  for  their  country's  good.  I  have  read 
somewhere  that  Texas  derived  its  name  from  a  group  of  ras- 
cals, who,  sitting  around  a  fire  on  their  arrival  on  the  soil 
that  was  to  protect  them,  composed  this  couplet: 
"  If  every  other  land  forsakes  us, 

This  is  the  land  that  freely  takes  us  (Texas)." 

As  story  after  story  reached  us,  I  began  to  think  the  State 
was  well  named.  There  were  a  great  many  excellent,  law- 
abiding  citizens,  but  not  enough  to  leaven  the  lump  at  that 
chaotic  period.  Even  the  women  learned  to  defend  them- 
selves, as  the  war  had  deprived  them  of  their  natural  pro- 
tectors, who  had  gone  either  in  the  Northern  or  Southern 
army — for  Texas  had  a  cavalry  regiment  of  refugees  in  our 
service.  One  woman,  while  we  were  there,  found  a  team- 
ster getting  into  her  window,  and  shot  him  fatally.  Fire- 
arms were  so  constantly  about — for  the  men  did  not  dress 
without  a  pistol  in  their  belts — that  women  grew  accustomed 
to  the  sight  of  weapons.  There  was  a  woman  of  whom  I 
constantly  heard,  rich  and  refined,  but  living  out  of  town  on 
a  plantation  that  seemed  to  be  fit  only  for  negroes.  She 

of  Indiana,  Kentucky  and  the  two  Carolinas,  and  nearly  all  of 
Tennessee,  with  one-third  of  Ohio,  two-thirds  of  Virginia,  half  of 
Georgia,  and  portions  of  Florida,  Alabama,  Illinois  and  Missouri. 
The  cities  of  Chicago,  Toledo,  Cincinnati,  Washington,  Richmond, 
Charleston,  Atlanta  and  Nashville  would  all  be  included  within 
its  borders. 


LIFE    IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  143 

rode  fearlessly,  and  diverted  her  monotonous  life  by  hunting. 
The  planters  frequently  met  her  with  game  slung  upon  her 
saddle,  and  once  she  lassoed  and  brought  in  a  wolf  alone. 
Finally,  this  woman  came  to  see  me,  but  curiosity  made  me 
hardly  civil  for  a  few  moments,  as  I  was  trying  to  reconcile 
myself  to  the  knowledge  that  the  quiet,  graceful  person  be- 
fore me,  with  rich  dress,  jewels  and  a  French  hat,  could  take 
her  gun  and  dogs,  mount  a  fiery  horse,  and  go  hunting  alone. 
We  found,  on  returning  the  visit,  that,  though  they  were 
rich,  owning  blooded  horses,  a  plantation  and  a  mill,  their 
domicile  was  anything  but  what  we  at  the  North  would  call 
comfortable.  It  was  a  long,  one-storied,  log  building,  con- 
sisting of  a  parlor,  dining-room,  bedroom  and  two  small 
"  no-'count "  rooms,  as  the  servants  said,  all  opening  into 
one  another  and  upon  the  porch.  The  first  surprise  on  en- 
tering was,  that  the  roof  did  not  fit  down  snugly  on  the  side 
wall.  A  strip  of  the  blue  sky  was  visible  on  three  sides, 
while  the  partition  of  the  dining-room  only  came  up  part 
way.  There  seemed  to  be  no  sort  of  provision  for  "Caudle 
lectures."  The  walls  were  roughly  plastered,  but  this  space 
just  under  the  roof  was  for  ventilation,  and  I  fancied  they 
would  get  enough  of  it  during  a  norther. 

I  am  reminded  of  a  story  that  one  of  the  witty  Southern 
women  told  me,  after  repeating  some  very  good  comic  verses, 
in  which  they  excel.  She  said  the  house  I  described  was  not 
uncommon  in  Texas,  and  that  once  she  was  traveling  over  a 
portion  of  the  State,  on  a  journey  of  great  suffering,  as  she 
was  accompanying  her  husband's  remains  to  a  family  burial- 
ground.  They  assisted  her  from  her  carriage  into  one  of  the 
rooms  of  a  long  log  house,  used  as  a  wayside  inn,  and  the 
landlady  kindly  helped  her  into  bed,  as  she  was  prostrated 
with  suffering  and  fatigue.  After  she  left  her,  the  landlady 
seemed  to  forget  that  the  partition  did  not  extend  to  the 
rafters,  and  began  questioning  her  servant  as  to  what  was 
the  matter,  etc.  Hearing  that  the  lady  had  lost  her  husband, 
the  old  dame  exclaimed,  sympathetically,  "Poor  thing! 
Poor  thing  !  I  know  how  it  is;  I've  lost  three  of  'em." 


144  'TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

The  General  and  his  staff  got  a  good  deal  of  sport  out  of 
the  manner  in  which  they  exaggerated  the  tales  of  blood- 
shed to  me,  and  aroused  the  anger,  grief  and  horror  that  I 
could  not  suppress.  I  must  defend  myself  from  the  supposi- 
tion that  I  may  have  been  chronicling  their  absurd  and 
highly  colored  tales.  All  that  I  have  written  I  have  either 
seen  or  have  reliable  authority  for'.  Their  astounding  stories, 
composed  among  themselves,  began  with  a  concocted  plan 
by  which  one  casually  started  a  story,  the  others  met  it  with 
surprise,  and  with  an  "Is  it  possible  ? "  and  the  next  led  up 
to  some  improbable  narrative  of  the  General's — I  growing 
more  and  more  shivery  as  the  wicked  tormentors  advanced. 
Always  rather  gullible,  I  suppose,  I  must  confess  the  torn 
and  distracted  state  of  society  in  Texas  made  everything  they 
said  seem  probable.  I  don't  know  how  long  I  kept  up  a 
fashion  of  starting  and  shuddering  over  the  frequent  crack 
of  a  rifle  or  pistol,  as  we  rode  through  the  woods  about  the 
town.  My  husband  and  his  attendant  scamps  did  all  they 
could  to  confirm  my  belief  that  the  woods  were  full  of  assas- 
sins, and  I  rode  on  after  these  sharp  reports,  expecting  to 
come  upon  the  lifeless  remains  of  a  murdered  man.  They 
all  said,  with  well-assumed  feeling,  that  Texas  was  an  awful 
country  in  which  to  live,  where  a  man's  life  was  not  safe  an 
hour,  and  excitedly  exclaimed  at  each  shot,  "  There  goes 
some  other  poor  fellow  ! "  I  have  reason  to  believe  it  was  a 
serious  disappointment  to  the  whole  confederation  of  jokers, 
to  have  me  actually  see  a  Mexican  driver  (a  greaser)  crack  his 
whip  over  the  heads  of  his  oxen,  as  they  crawled  along  in 
front  of  us  one  day  when  we  were  riding.  There  is  no  sound 
like  the  snap  of  the  lash  of  a  "bull-whacker,"  as  they  are 
called,  and  perhaps  brighter  women  than  I  am  might  have 
been  taken  in  by  it,  and  thought  it  a  pistol-shot.  This  ended 
my  taking  it  as  the  signal  of  a  death. 

The  lawlessness  of  the  State  was  much  diminished  by 
the  troops  scattered  through  the  country.  General  Custer 
was  much  occupied  in  answering  communications  that  came 
from  distant  parts  of  Texas,  describing  the  demoralized  state 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  145 

of  the  country,  and  asking  for  troops.  These  appeals  were 
from  all  sides.  It  was  felt  more  and  more  that  the  presence 
of  the  troops  was  absolutely  necessary,  and  it  was  certainly 
agreeable  to  us  that  we  were  not  looked  upon  as  invaders. 
The  General  then  had  thirteen  regiments  of  infantry  and  as 
many  of  cavalry,  scattered  in  every  part  of  the  State  com- 
prised in  his  district.  The  regular  troops  arriving  brought 
their  wives  and  daughters,  and  it  was  a  great  addition,  as  we 
had  constant  entertainments,  in  which  the  civilians,  so  long 
cut  off  from  all  gayety,  were  glad  to  participate.  The  staff 
assisted  me  greatly  in  my  preparations.  We  dressed  the  long 
parlors  in  evergreens,  made  canopies  of  flags,  arranged  wax- 
lights  in  impromptu  wooden  sconces,  and  with  the  waxed 
floor  it  was  tempting  enough  to  those  who  cared  for  dancing. 
The  soldiers  soon  organized  a  string  band,  and  a  sergeant 
called  off  the  quadrilles.  Sometimes  my  husband  planned 
and  arranged  the  suppers  alone,  but  usually  the  staff  divided 
the  duty  of  preparing  the  refreshments.  Occasionally  we 
attempted  a  dinner,  and,  as  we  wanted  to  invite  our  own 
ladies  as  well  as  some  from  the  regular  regiments,  the  table 
was  a  subject  of  study;  for  when  twenty  came,  the  dishes 
gave  out.  The  staff  dined  early,  so  that  we  could  have 
theirs,  and  the  Southern  woman  who  occupied  two  rooms  in 
the  building  lent  everything  she  had.  Uncle  Charley,  our 
cook,  who  now  had  found  a  colored  church  in  which  to 
preach  on  Sunday,  did  up  all  his  religion  on  that  day,  and 
swore  all  the  week,  but  the  cellar-kitchen  was  distant,  and, 
besides,  my  husband  used  to  argue  that  it  was  just  as  well  to 
endure  placidly  the  evils  right  about  us,  but  not  to  seek  for 
more.  The  swearing  did  not  interfere  with  the  cooking,  and 
Charley  thought  it  necessary  to  thus  clear  the  kitchen,  as  our 
yard  at  that  time  was  black  with  the  colored  race.  Each  of- 
ficer's servant  had  his  circle  of  friends,  and  they  hovered 
round  us  like  a  dark  cloud.  The  dishes  that  Uncle  Charley 
sent  up  were  excellent.  The  Texas  beef  and  poultry  were 
of  superior  quality,  and  we  even  had  a  respite  from  condensed 
milk,  as  a  citizen  had  lent  us  a  cow. 


146  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

At  one  of  these  dinners  Eliza  had  enlisted  a  colored  boy 
to  help  her  wait  on  the  table.  I  had  tried  to  borrow  enough 
dishes,  and  thought  the  table  was  provided.  But  the  glory 
of  the  occasion  departed  when,  after  soup,  roast  game,  etc., 
all  served  with  the  great  luxury,  at  that  place,  of  separate 
plates,  Uncle  Charley  bethought  himself  that  he  would  add, 
as  a  surprise,  a  dessert.  It  is  almost  unnecessary  to  say  that 
a  dessert  at  that  time  was  an  event.  Uncle  Charley  said  his 
"  best  holt "  was  on  meats,  and  his  attempts  at  pastry  would 
not  dnly  have  ruined  the  remnant  of  his  temper,  but,  I  am 
afraid,  if  often  indulged  in,  would  have  effectually  finished 
our  digestion.  For  this  I  had  not  counted,  and,  to  my  dis- 
may, after  the  pudding  had  been  deposited  with  great  salaam 
and  ceremony  before  the  General,  the  colored  boy  rushed 
around  and  gathered  everybody's  coffee-saucer.  Until  he  re- 
turned them  washed,  and  placed  them  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  I  did  not  imagine  what  he  was  doing;  I  simply  waited, 
in  that  uncertain  frame  of  mind  that  a  hostess  well  knows. 
My  husband  looked  at  the  array  of  cups  down  the  long  table, 
standing  bereft  of  their  partners,  laid  his  head  back  and 
shouted.  Then  everybody  else  laughed,  and,  very  red  and 
very  mortified,  I  concluded  to  admit  that  I  had  not  arranged 
for  this  last  course,  and  that  on  that  table  were  the  united 
contents  of  all  our  mess-chests,  and  there  were  no  saucers  or 
dessert-plates  nearer  than  town.  We  were  aware  that  our 
stay  in  the  South  was  limited,  and  made  no  effort  to  keep 
enough  crockery  for  dinners  of  twenty. 

Afrer  many  enjoyable  parties  in  our  parlor,  we  received  a 
pathetic  and  carefully  worded  hint  from  Eliza,  who  was  now 
a  great  belle,  that  she  would  like  to  return  some  of  the  hos- 
pitality shown  her  by  the  colored  people  of  the  town,  and 
my  husband  was  only  too  glad  to  prove  to  Eliza  how  we  val- 
ued her  faithful,  self-denying  life  in  our  service.  We  com- 
posed an  invitation,  in  which  Miss  Eliza  Brown  presented  her 
compliments  to  Mr.  Washington  or  Mr.  Jefferson,  as  the  case 
might  be,  and  would  be  happy  to  see  him  on  such  an  even- 
ing, with  the  word  "dancing"  in  the  left-hand  corner.  A 


LIFE   IN   A   TEXAS   TOWN.  147 

gathering  of  the  darkeys  seemed  equally  jubilant,  whether  it 
was  a  funeral,  a  camp-meeting  or  a  dance;  but  it  seemed 
they  made  a  difference  in  dress  for  these  occasions,  if  not  in 
manners.  So  it  was  best,  Eliza  thought,  to  add  "dancing," 
though  it  was  only  at  first  a  mirthful  suggestion  of  the  Gen- 
eral's fertile  brain.  He  gave  the  copying  to  the  office  clerk, 
who,  being  a  professional  penman,  put  as  many  tails  to  his 
capitals  and  flourishes  to  his  words  as  he  did  for  the  white 
folks,  Eliza's  critical  eye  watching  for  any  less  elaborate  em- 
bellishment. 

The  lower  part  of  the  house  was  given  over  to  the  negroes, 
who  polished  the  floor,  trimmed  the  windows,  columns  and 
chimney  with  garlands,  of  live-oak,  and  lavished  candles  on 
the  scene,  while  at  the  supper  they  had  a  heterogeneous  jum- 
ble of  just  what  they  asked  for,  including  coon,  the  dish  gar- 
nished with  watercress  and  bits  of  boiled  beet.  I  think  we 
were  not  asked;  but  as  the  fiddle  started  the  jigs,  the  Gen- 
eral's feet  began  to  keep  time,  and  he  executed  some  pas 
seul  around  our  room,  and  then,  extracting,  as  usual,  a  prom- 
ise from  me  not  to  laugh,  he  dragged  me  down  the  steps, 
and  we  hid  where  we  saw  it  all.  The  quadrille  ended,  the 
order  of  ceremonies  seemed  to  consist  in  the  company  going 
down  to  one  end  of  the  room  in  response  to  an  order  from 
Uncle  Charley  to  "  cl'ar  the  flo'."  Then  the  old  man  of  sixty, 
a  grandfather,  now  dressed  in  white  tie,  vest  and  gloves,  with 
shining  black  clothes,  took  the  floor.  He  knew  himself  to  be 
the  cynosure  of  all  eyes,  and  bore  himself  accordingly  He 
had  previously  said  to  me,  "  To-night,  I  expects,  Miss  Libbie, 
to  put  down  some  steps  those  colored  folks  has  never  seen 
befo'."  And  surely  he  did.  He  ambled  out,  as  lithe  as  a 
youngster,  cut  some  pigeon-wings,  and  then  skipped  and 
flung  himself  about  with  the  agility  of  a  boy,  stopping  not 
only  for  breath,  but  to  watch  the  expressions,  envious  and 
admiring,  of  the  spectators  at  the  end  of  the  room.  When 
his  last  breath  was  exhausted,  Aunt  Ann,  our  old  laundress, 
came  tripping  down  the  polished  floor,  and  executed  a  shuf- 
fle, most  decorous  at  first,  and  then,  reviving  her  youth,  she 


148  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

struck  into  a  hoydenish  jig,  her  son  encouraging  her  by 
patting  time.  More  quadrilles,  then  another  clearing  of  the 
floor,  and  a  young  yellow  woman  pirouetted  down  the  room, 
in  bright  green  tarlatan  petticoats,  very  short  and  airy.  She 
executed  a  hornpipe  and  a  reel,  and,  like  Uncle  Charley,  im- 
provised some  steps  for  the  occasion.  This  black  sylph  was 
surrounded  with  a  cloud  of  diaphanous  drapery;  she  wreathed 
her  arms  about  her  head,  kept  on  the  smirk  of  the  ballet-girl, 
and  coquetted  and  skipped  about,  with  manners  that  brought 
down  the  house.  The  fattest  darkey  of  all  waddled  down 
next  and  did  a  breakdown,  at  which  all  the  assembly  patted 
juba,  and  with  their  woolly  heads  kept  time  to  the  violin. 
My  husband  never  moved  from  his  hiding-place,  but  chuckled 
and  shook  over  the  sight,  novel  to  us,  till  Eliza  found  us  out 
and  forgave  the  "  peeking." 

The  clothes  worn  looked  as  if  the  property-room  of  a 
third-rate  theatre  had  been  rifled — faded  finery,  fag  ends  of 
old  lace,  tumbled  flowers  that  had  done  duty  at  many  a 
"white  folks' "  ball,  on  the  pretty  costume  of  the  missus,  old 
feathers  set  up  in  the  wool,  where  what  was  left  of  the  plume 
bobbed  and  quavered,  as  the  head  of  the  owner  moved  to  the 
time  of  the  music,  or  nodded  and  swayed  back  and  forth 
while  conversation  was  kept  up.  The  braiding,  oiling  and 
smoothing  had  gone  on  for  days  previous,  to  straighten 
the  wool  and  make  it  lie  flat;  but  the  activity  in  the  pursuit 
of  pleasure  soon  set  the  little  kinks  free,  and  each  hair  stood 
on  tiptoe,  joining  in  a  jig  of  its  own.  The  powder  begged 
from  the  toilet-table  of  the  missus  was  soon  swept  away  in 
the  general  shine;  but  the  belles  cared  little  for  having  sus- 
pended temporarily  the  breath  of  their  rivals  by  the  gor- 
geousness  of  their  toilettes  ;  they  forgot  appearances  and 
yielded  to  that  absorption  of  excitement  in  which  the  col- 
ored soul  is  spellbound. 

Eliza  moved  about,  "  queening  it,"  as  she  knew  how  to  do, 
and  it  was  a  proud  hour  of  triumph  to  her,  as  she  cast  a 
complacent  side  glance  at  the  tail  of  her  gown,  which  she 
had  wheedled  out  of  me  by  cunning  arguments,  among  which 


LIFE   IN  A  TEXAS  TOWN.  149 

the  most  powerful  was  that  "  'twas  getting  so  mussed,  and 
'twasn't  no  sort  of  a  dress  for  a  Ginnel's  wife,  no  how."  The 
General  lost  nothing,  for  he  sat  in  our  hidden  corner,  shak- 
ing and  throwing  his  head  back  in  glee,  but  keeping  a  close 
and  warning  hold  on  my  arm,  as  I  was  not  so  successful  in 
smothering  a  titter  as  he  was,  having  no  mustache  to  deaden 
the  sound.  After  Eliza  discovered  us,  she  let  no  one  know 
of  our  perfidy,  and  the  company,  believing  they  were  alone, 
abandoned  themselves  to  complete  enjoyment,  as  the  fiddle 
played  havoc  with  the  heels  of  the  entire  assembly. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LETTERS  HOME. 

THE  trivial  events  of  our  daily  life  were  chronicled  in  a 
weekly  letter  home,  and  from  a  number  of  these  school-girl 
effusions  I  cull  a  few  items,  as  they  give  an  idea  of  my  hus- 
band's recreations  as  well  as  his  duties. 

"  We  are  quartered  in  the  Blind  Asylum,  which  is  large 
and  comfortable.  The  large  rooms  in  the  main  part  of  the 
building  we  can  use  for  entertaining,  while  the  staff  occupy 
the  wings  and  the  building  in  the  yard,  that  was  used  for  a 
schoolroom.  Out  there  they  can  have  all  the  '  walk-arounds  ' 
and  '  high-jinks '  they  choose,  without  any  one  hearing 
them." 

"  Our  room  is  large,  and,  mother,  I  have  two  bureaus  and 
a  wardrobe,  and  lose  my  things  constantly,  I  am  so  unused  to 
so  much  room.  We  women  hardly  knew  what  to  make  of 
the  absence  of  looking-glasses,  as  the  house  is  otherwise  fur- 
nished, until  it  occurred  to  us  that  the  former  occupants 
wouldn't  get  much  good  out  of  a  mirror.  It  isn't  so  neces- 
sary to  have  one,  after  all,  as  I  got  on  all  summer  very  well, 
after  I  learned  to  brush  my  hair  straight  back  and  not  try 
to  part  it.  I  have  a  mirror  now,  and  am  wrestling  with  back 
hair  again. 

"  I  confess  to  you,  mother,  it  is  a  comfort  to  get  out  of  bed 
on  to  a  carpet,  and  dress  by  a  fire;  but  don't  tell  Armstrong 
I  said  so,  as  I  never  mentioned  to  him  that  dressing  before 
day,  my  eyes  streaming  with  tears  from  the  camp-fire  While  I 
took  an  ice-water  bath,  was  not  the  mode  of  serving  my 
country  that  I  could  choose. " 

"  Last  Sunday  it  was  uncomfortably  warm.  We  wore  thin 
summer  clothes,  and  were  languid  from  the  heat.  The  ther- 

150 


LETTERS    HOME.  15! 

mometer  was  eighty-two  in  the  shade.  On  Monday  the 
weather  changed  from  heat  to  cold  in  five  minutes,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  sudden  and  violent  winds  which  are  called 
'  northers.' 

"  No  one  prepares  for  the  cold  in  this  country,  but  there 
was  a  general  scattering  when  our  first  norther  attacked  us. 
Tom  rushed  for  wood,  and  of  course  none  was  cut.  He 
fished  Tex  out  from  the  kitchen,  borrowed  an  axe  from  one 
of  the  headquarters  men,  and  soon  appeared  with  an  armful. 
As  he  took  the  sticks  from  Tex  to  build  the  fire,  out  dropped 
a  scorpion  to  add  to  the  excitement.  It  was  torpid,  but 
nevertheless  it  was  a  scorpion,  and  I  took  my  usual  safe  posi- 
tion, in  the  middle  of  the  bed,  till  there  was  an  auto  dafe.  The 
loose  windows  rattled,  and  the  wind  howled  around  the  cor- 
ner of  our  room.  I  put  a  sack  and  shawl  over  my  summer 
dress,  and  we  shivered  over  Tom's  fire.  I  rather  wondered 
at  Armstrong's  huddling,  as  he  is  usually  so  warm,  but  each 
act  of  these  boys  needs  investigating.  By  and  by  he  went  off 
to  write,  while  father  Custer  took  out  his  pipe,  to  calm  the 
troubled  scene  into  which  the  rush  of  Nova  Zembla  had 
thrown  us.  He  sat  'way  under  the  mantel  to  let  the  tobacco- 
smoke  go  up  the  chimney.  Pretty  soon  Autie  returned  and 
threw  some  waste  paper  on  the  fire,  and  the  next  thing  we 
all  started  violently  back  from  a  wild  pyrotechnic  display. 
With  the  papers  went  in  a  handful  of  blank  cartridges,  and 
these  innocent-looking  scamps  faced  their  father  and  calmly 
asked  him  why  he  had  jumped  half-way  across  the  room. 
They  often  repeat  this  Fourth-of-July  exhibition  with  fire- 
crackers, either  tied  to  his  chair,  or  tossed  carelessly  on  the 
burning  logs,  when  his  attention  is  attracted  elsewhere.  But 
don't  pity  him,  mother.  No  matter  what  trick  they  play,  he 
is  never  phased.  He  matches  them  too,  and  I  help  him, 
though  I  am  obliged  to  confess  I  often  join  in  the  laugh, 
it  is  all  so  funny.  This  was  not  the  last  of  the  hullaba- 
loo. The  wood  gave  out  and  Autie  descended  for  more. 
Tex  took  this  occasion,  when  everyone  was  hunting  a  fire 
and  shelter  from  the  cold,  to  right  what  he  considered  a 


152  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

grievous  wrong.  Autie  found  him  belaboring  another  col- 
ored boy,  whom  he  had  "  downed."  Autie  investigated, 
for  if  Tex  was  right  he  was  bound  to  let  the  fight  proceed. 
You  know  in  his  West  Point  days  he  was  arrested  for  allow- 
ing a  fisticuff  to  go  on,  and  because  he  said,  '  Stand  back, 
boys,  and  let's  have  a  fair  fight.'  But  finding  our  boy  in  the 
wrong,  he  arraigned  him,  and  began,  '  Did  you  strike  Jake 
with  malice  aforethought  ?  '  '  No  sah !  no  sah !  I  dun  struck 
him  with  the  back  of  the  hatchet.'  At  this  Autie  found 
himself  no  longer  a  'most  righteous  judge.'  This  Daniel 
beat  a  quick  retreat,  red  with  suppressed  laughter,  and  made 
Tom  go  down  to  do  the  punishing.  Tom  shut  Tex  in  the 
chicken-coop;  but  it  was  hard  for  me  to  see  from  my  window 
his  shiny  eyes  looking  out  from  between  the  slats,  so  they 
made  the  sentence  light,  and  he  was  set  free  in  the  afternoon. 
"  Now,  mother,  I  have  established  the  only  Yankee  wood- 
pile in  Texas.  I  don't  mean  to  be  caught  again,  and  shrivel 
up  as  we  did  this  time.  You  don't  know  how  these  storms 
deceive  you.  One  hour  we  are  so  suffocated  with  the  heavy, 
oppressive  air,  we  sit  in  the  deep  window-sills  and  pant  for 
breath.  Along  comes  a  roaring  sound  through  the  tree-tops, 
and  there's  a  scatter,  I  can  tell  you.  We  bang  down  the 
windows,  and  shout  for  Texas  to  hunt  the  wood-pile,  jump 
into  warm  clothes,  and  before  we  are  fairly  prepared,  the 
hurricane  is  upon  us.  We  really  don't  mind  it  a  bit,  as  it 
doesn't  last  long  (once  it  lasted  three  days),  besides,  it  is  so 
good  to  be  in  something  that  isn't  going  to  blow  down,  as  we 
momentarily  expected  in  a  tent.  Our  Sundays  pass  so 
slowly!  The  traveling-wagon  holds  a  good  many,  and  we 
don't  mind  close  quarters,  so  we  all  squeeze  in,  and  the 
bachelor  officers  ride  with  us  to  church.  The  Episcopal 
church  is  still  open,  but  as  they  have  no  fires  we  would  be 
glad  if  the  rector  warmed  us  up  with  his  eloquence  a  little 
more.  However,  it's  church,  and  we  begin  to  feel  semi- 
civilized. 

"  The  citizens  are  constantly  coming  to  pay  their  respects 


LETTERS    HOME.  153 

to  Armstrong.  You  see,  we  were  welcomed  instead  of  dreaded, 
as,  Yankees  or  no  Yankees,  a  man's  life  is  just  as  good,  pre- 
served by  a  Federal  soldier  as  by  a  Confederate,  and  every- 
body seems  to  be  in  a  terrified  state  in  this  lawless  land. 
Among  the  callers  is  one  man  that  will  interest  you,  father. 
I  believe  you  are  considered  authority  on  the  history  of  the 
fight  that  took  place  at  Monroe,  when  the  Kentucky  regi- 
ment fought  the  British  in  1812.  Well,  whom  do  you  think 
we  have  found  down  here,  but  the  old  Colonel  Groome  who 
distinguished  himself  that  day  ?  He  is  a  white-headed  old 
soldier,  and  when  Autie  told  him  that  we  were  right  from 
Monroe,  he  was  so  affected  the  tears  came  to  his  eyes.  It 
was  he  that  set  the  barn  on  fire  to  prevent  the  British  using 
it  as  a  fortification  for  sharp-shooters.  He  crawled  away 
from  the  burning  building  on  his  hands  and  knees,  while 
their  bullets  cut  his  clothes  and  wounded  him  several  times. 
Years  afterward  he  met  an  old  British  officer,  who  told  him, 
in  their  talk,  that  the  man  who  fired  the  barn  was  killed  by 
his  own  army,  but  Colonel  Groome,  in  quite  a  dramatic  way, 
said, '  No!  I  am  the  man.'  He  says  that  he  would  like  to  see 
you  so  much.  Autie  is  greatly  interested  in  this  veteran,  and 
we  are  going  to  call  on  him,  and  get  two  game  chickens  he  is 
to  give  us. 

"  Now,  father,  don't  wrinkle  up  your  brows  when  I  tell  you 

that  we  race  horses.     Even  I  race  with  Mrs.  L ,  and  much 

as  you  may  disapprove,  I  know  my  father  too  well  not  to  be 
sure  he  will  be  glad  that  his  only  daughter  beat.  But  let  me 
explain  to  you  that  racing  among  ourselves  is  not  your  idea 
of  it.  There  is  no  money  at  stake,  no  rough  crowd,  none  of 
the  evils  of  which  you  may  well  disapprove,  as  we  know  horse- 
racing  at  home.  Armstrong  is  considered  the  best  judge  of 
a  horse  here.  The  Texans  supposed  no  one  in  the  world 
could  ride  as  well  as  themselves,  and  they  do  ride  splendidly, 
but  those  who  saw  Armstrong  keep  his  place  in  the  saddle 
when  Don  Juan  ran  away  with  him  at  the  grand  review  in 
Washington,  concede  that  he  does  know  how  to  ride,  how- 
ever mistaken  his  views  on  patriotism  may  be.  We  have  now 


154  TENTING   ON   THE  PLAINS. 

three  running  horses  and  a  fast  pony,  none  of  which  has 
beaten.  Autie's  bay  pony  beat  a  crack  runner  of  which  the 
town  boasts,  by  three  full  lengths.  The  races  are  near  our 
quarters,  so  we  women  can  be  in  it  all.  Indeed,  there  is 
nothing  they  do  not  share  with  us. 

"  Our  stable-boy  is  a  tiny  mulatto,  a  handsome  little  fellow, 
weighing  about  eighty  pounds.  Armstrong  thinks  he  is  the 
finest  rider  he  has  ever  seen.  I  have  just  made  him  a  tight- 
fitting  red  jacket  and  a  red-white-and-blue  skull  cap,  to  ride 
in  at  races.  We  are  running  out  to  the  stables  half  our  time. 
Armstrong  has  the  horses  exercised  on  a  quarter-of-a-mile 
track,  holds  the  watch  and  times  them,  as  we  sit  round  and 
enjoy  their  speed." 

"When  I  am  so  intent  on  my  amateur  dressmaking,  and 
perplexed  and  tired,  dear  mother,  you  wouldn't  wonder  when 
I  tell  you  that  one  dress,  of  which  I  am  in  actual  need,  I  cut 
so  that  the  figure  ran  one  way  on  the  skirt  and  another  on 
the  waist,  and  caused  Armstrong  to  make  some  ridiculous  re- 
marks that  I  tried  not  to  notice,  but  he  was  so  funny,  and  the 
dress  itself  was  so  very  queer  when  I  put  it  on,  I  had  to  give 
in.  Well,  when  I  am  so  bothered,  he  comes  in  and  throws 
my  things  all  over  the  room,  kicks  over  the  lapboard,  and 
picks  me  up  for  a  tramp  to  the  stable.  Then  he  rubs  down 
the  horses'  legs,  and  asks  me  to  notice  this  or  that  fine  point, 
which  is  all  Greek  to  me.  The  truth  is,  that  I  would  rather 
see  a  fine  mane  and  tail  than  all  the  sinew,  length  of  limb, 
etc.  Then  we  sit  down  on  kegs  and  boxes,  and  contemplate 
our  wealth.  Custis  Lee  greets  me  with  a  whinny.  Dear 
mother,  you  would  be  simply  horrified  by  our  back  yard. 
Autie  and  I  march  to  the  stables  through  a  dark  cloud  of 
spectators.  The  negroes  are  upon  us  like  the  locusts  of 
Egypt.  It  is  rumored  that  our  Uncle  Charley  keeps  a  flour- 
ishing colored  boarding-house  in  the  town,  from  what  is  de- 
cidedly more  than  the  crumbs  that  fall  from  his  master's 
table.  After  all,  though,  considering  our  house  is  filled  with 
company,  and  we  constantly  give  evening  parties,  I  don't 


LETTERS    HOME.  155 

think  our  mess-bills  .are  very  large.  Autie  teases  father  Cus- 
ter,  by  telling  him  he  is  going  to  brigade  the  colored  troops 
and  make  him  chaplain.  You  are  well  aware  how  father 
Custer  feels  over  the  'nigger'  question,  and  -how  he  would 
regard  a  chaplaincy.  I  must  not  forget  to  tell  you  that  the 
wheel  of  time  has  rolled  around,  and  among  the  regiments  in 
Armstrong's  command  is  the  Fourth  Michigan  Infantry. 
Don't  you  remember  that  when  he  was  a  second  lieutenant, 
he  crossed  the  Chickahominy  with  that  regiment,  and  how, 
having  started  before  dawn,  his  comrades  among  whom  he 
had  just  come,  did  not  know  him,  till,  while  they  were  lying 
low,  he  would  pop  up  his  head  and  call  out  their  first  names, 
or  their  nicknames  at  school  in  Monroe,  and  when  it  was 
daylight,  and  they  recognized  him,  how  glad  they  were  to 
see  him?" 

"  We  had  a  lovely  Christmas.  I  fared  beautifully,  as  some 
of  our  staff  had  been  to  San  Antonio,  where  the  stores  have 
a  good  many  beautiful  things  from  Mexico.  Here,  we  had 
little  opportunity  to  buy  anything,  but  I  managed  to  get  up 
some  trifle  for  each  of  our  circle.  We  had  a  large  Christmas- 
tree,  and  Autie  was  Santa  Claus,  and  handed  down  the  pres- 
ents, making  side-splitting  remarks  as  each  person  walked 
up  to  receive  his  gift.  The  tree  was  well  lighted.  I  don't 
know  how  so  many  tapers  were  gotten  together.  Of  course 
it  would  not  be  its  if,  with  all  the  substantial  gifts,  some  jokes 
were  not  slipped  in.  You  know  well  father  Custer's  antip- 
athy to  the  negro,  and  everybody  gathered  round  to  see  him 
open  a  box  containing  a  nigger  doll  baby,  while  two  of  his 
other  parcels  held  a  bunch  of  fire-crackers  and  a  bunch  of 
cards.  Lately  his  sons  have  spent  a  good  deal  of  time  and 
argument  trying  to  induce  him  to  play.  They,  at  last,  taught 
him  some  simple  game,  easy  enough  for  even  me  to  master. 
The  rogues  let  him  beat  at  first,  bujt  finally  he  discovered  his 
luck  was  so  persistently  bad  there  must  be  a  screw  loose,  and 
those  boys  up  to  some  rascality.  They  had  put  him,  with  no 
apparent  intention,  with  his  back  to  the  mirror,  and,  of 


156  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

course,  saw  his  hand,  which,  like  an  amateur,  he  awkwardly 
held  just  right  to  enable  them  to  see  all  his  cards.  This  end- 
ed his  lessons,  and  we  will  return  him  to  Monroe  the  same 
good  old  Methodist  that  he  left  it.  Everybody  is  fond  of  him, 
and  his  real  presents  were  a  hat,  handkerchief,  necktie,  pipe 
and  tobacco. 

"  One  of  our  lieutenants,  having  just  received  his  brevet  as 
major,  had  a  huge  pair  of  yellow  leaves  cut  out  of  flannel,  as 
his  insignia  for  the  new  rank. 

"  One  of  the  staff,  now  a  teetotaler,  was  reminded  of  his 
past,  which  I  hoped  everyone  would  ignore,  by  the  present 
of  a  wooden  faucet.  No  one  escapes  in  such  a  crowd. 

"  Tom,  who  is  always  drumming  on  the  piano,  had  a  Jew's- 
harp  given  him,  with  an  explanatory  line  from  Autie  attach- 
ed, '  to  give  the  piano  a  rest.'  Only  our  own  military  family 
were  here,  and  Armstrong  gave  us  a  nice  supper,  all  of  his 
own  getting  up.  We  played  games,  sang  songs,  mostly  for 
the  chorus,  danced,  and  finally  the  merriest  imitated  the 
darkeys  by  jigs  and  patting  juba,  and  walk-arounds.  The 
rooms  were  prettily  trimmed  with  evergreens,  and  over  one 
door  a  great  branch  of  mistletoe,  about  which  the  officers 
sang 

"  Fair  mistletoe  ! 

Love's  opportunity  ! 
What  trees  that  grow 

Give  such  sweet  impunity  ?" 

"  But  it  is  too  bad  that,  pretty  as  two  or  three  of  our 
women  are,  they  belong  to  some  one  else.  So  kissing  begins 
and  ends  with  every  man  saluting  his  own  wife. 

"  I  wish  you  could  see  the  waxen  white  berries  and  the 
green  leaves  of  the  parasite  on  the  naked  branches  of  the 
trees  here,  mother;  and,  oh  !  to  have  you  get  one  sniff  of  the 
December  roses,  which  r^val  the  summer  ones  in  richness  of 
color  and  perfume,  would  make  my  pleasure  greater,  I  as- 
sure you.  It  is  nearly  spring  here,  and  the  grass  on  our  lawn 
is  getting  green,  and  the  farmers  began  to  plough  in  January. 


LETTERS    HOME.  157 

"  Nettie  is  such  a  nurse  here  !  Her  name  is  up  for  it,  and 
she  has  even  to  go  out  to  the  servants'  quarters  if  the  little 
nigs  burn  their  heels  or  toes.  She  is  a  great  pleasure  to  us 
all,  and  enjoys  every  moment." 

It  seems  that  the  general  racing  of  which  I  wrote  to  my 
father,  was  too  tempting  for  me  to  resist  entirely,  and  our 
household  was  beguiled  one  day  into  a  promise  to  bring  my 
husband's  war-horse,  Jack  Rucker,  down  to  the  citizens' 
track.  Every  one  was  confident  of  success,  and  no  one  took 
into  consideration  that  the  experiment  of  pitting  gentlemen 
against  turf  roughs  has  never  been  successful.  Our  officers 
entered  into  all  the  preparations  with  high  hopes,  thinking 
that  with  one  good  whipping  the  civilians  would  cease  to  send 
bantering  messages  or  drag  presuming  coat-tails  before  their 
eyes.  They  were  accustomed  to  putting  their  steeds  to  their 
best  speed  when  a  party  of  equestrians  from  our  headquarters 
were  riding  in  their  vicinity.  Too  fond  of  good  horseflesh 
not  to  admire  the  pace  at  which  their  thoroughbreds  sped 
over  the  smooth,  firm  roads  about  Austin,  there  was  still  a 
murmured  word  passed  around  that  the  owners  of  these  fleet 
animals  would  hang  their  proud  heads  when  "  Jack"  came 
into  the  field.  We  women  were  pressed  into  going.  All  of 
us  liked  the  trial  of  speed  on  our  own  territory,  but  the  hatred 
of  a  horse-track  that  was  not  conducted  by  gentlemen  was 
imbedded  deep  in  our  minds.  The  officers  did  not  ask  us  to 
go  for  good  luck,  as  army  women  are  so  often  told  they  bring 
it,  but  they  simply  said,  "  You  could  not  miss  seeing  our  Jack 
beat !  "  Off  we  went,  a  gay,  boisterous  party,  till  we  reached 
the  track;  there  we  put  on  our  quietest  civilian  manners  and 
took  our  place  to  watch  the  coming  triumph.  The  track  was 
good,  and  the  Texas  men  and  women,  more  enthusiastic 
over  a  horse  than  over  anything  else  in  the  world,  cheered 
their  blanketed  favorite  as  he  was  led  up  and  down  before 
the  judge's  stand. 

When  the  judge  gave  the  final  "  Go  !  "  our  party  were  so 
excited,  and  our  hearts  so  swelling  with  assured  success,  I 
would  have  climbed  up  on  the  saddle  to  see  better,  if  it 


158  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

had  not  been  that  we  were  surrounded  with  strangers.  Off 
went  the  beautiful  Texas  horse,  like  an  arrow  from  a  bow; 
but  our  Jack,  in  spite  of  the  rider  sticking  the  spur  and  cru- 
elly cutting  his  silken  neck  with  the  whip,  only  lumbered 
around  the  first  curve,  and  in  this  manner  laboriously  made 
his  way  the  rest  of  the  distance.  Of  course  it  was  plain  that 
we  were  frightfully  beaten,  and  with  loud  and  triumphant 
huzzas,  the  Texans  welcomed  their  winning  horse  long  before 
poor  Jack  dragged  himself  up  to  the  stand.  Our  officers 
hurried  out  to  look  him  over,  and  found  the  poor  brute  had 
been  drugged  by  the  contesting  side.  There  was  no  serious 
injury,  except  to  our  pride.  We  were  too  disappointed,  hu- 
miliated and  infuriated  to  stand  upon  the  order  of  our  going. 
We  all  turned  our  backs  upon  the  crowd  and  fled.  The  clat- 
ter of  our  horses'  hoofs  upon  the  hard  road  was  the  only 
sound,  as  none  of  us  spoke. 

My  husband  met  that,  as  everything  else,  as  nothing  wor- 
thy of  serious  regret,  and  after  the  tempest  of  fury  over  our 
being  so  imposed  upon,  I  rather  rejoiced,  because  the  speed  of 
our  horses,  after  that  first  and  last  essay,  was  confined  to  our 
own  precincts.  Nobody's  pocket  suffered,  and  the  wounded 
spirits  of  those  who  race  horses  are  more  easily  soothed  if  a 
wounded  purse  has  not  to  be  borne  in  addition. 

There  was  one  member  of  our  family,  to  whom  I  have  only 
referred,  who  was  our  daily  joy.  It  was  the  pointer,  Ginnie, 
whom  the  Virginia  family  in  Hempstead  had  given  us.  My 
husband  made  her  a  bed  in  the  hall  near  our  room,  and  she 
did  every  cunning,  intelligent  act  of  which  a  dog  is  capable. 
She  used  to  go  hunting,  walking  and  riding  with  us,  and  was 
en  rapport  with  her  master  at  all  times.  I  often  think,  WTho 
among  our  friends  pleases  us  on  all  occasions  ?  How  few 
there  are  who  do  not  rub  us  up  the  wrong  way,  or  whom  we 
ourselves  are  not  conscious  sometimes  of  boring,  and  of  tax- 
ing their  patience  !  And  do  we  not  find  that  we  sometimes 
approach  those  of  whom  we  are  fond,  and  discover  intui- 
tively that  they  are  not  in  sympathy  with  our  mood,  and  we 
must  bide  their  time  for  responding  to  our  overtures?  With 


LETTERS    HOME.  159 

that  dear  Ginnie  there  was  no  question.  She  received  us  ex- 
actly in  the  spirit  with  which  we  approached  her,  responded, 
with  measure  pressed  down  and  running  over,  to  our  affec- 
tionate demonstrations,  and  the  blessed  old  girl  never  sulked 
if  we  dropped  her  to  attend  to  something  else.  George  Eliot 
says,  "  Animals  are  such  agreeable  friends  !  they  ask  no 
questions,  they  pass  no  criticisms." 

A  dog  is  so  human  to  me,  and  dogs  have  been  my  hus- 
band's chosen  friends  so  many  years,  I  cannot  look  upon  the 
commonest  cur  with  indifference.  Sometimes,  as  I  stand 
now  at  my  window,  longing  for  the  old  pack  that  whined 
with  delight,  quarreled  with  jealousy  for  the  best  place  near 
us,  capered  with  excitement  as  we  started  off  on  a  ride  or 
walk,  my  eyes  involuntarily  follow  each  dog  that  passes  on 
the  street.  I  look  at  the  master,  to  see  if  he  realizes  that  all 
that  is  faithful  and  loving  in  this  world  is  at  his  heels.  If  he 
stops  to  talk  to  a  friend,  and  the  dog  leaps  about  him,  licks 
his  hand,  rubs  against  him,  and  tries,  in  every  way  that  his 
devoted  heart  teaches  him,  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  one 
who  is  all  the  world  to  him,  all  my  sympathies  are  with  the 
dog.  I  watch  with  jealous  solicitude  to  see  if  the  affection- 
ate brute  gets  recognition.  And  if  by  instinct  the  master's 
hand  goes  out  to  the  dog's  head,  I  am  quite  as  glad  and 
grateful  as  the  recipient.  If  the  man  is  absorbed,  and  lets 
the  animal  sit  patiently  and  adoringly  watching  his  very  ex- 
pression, it  seems  to  me  I  cannot  refrain  from  calling  his  at- 
tention to  the  neglect. 

My  husband  was  as  courteous  in  responding  to  his  dogs' 
demonstrations,  and  as  affectionate,  as  he  would  be  to  a  per- 
son. If  he  sent  them  away,  he  explained,  in  dog  talk,  the 
reason,  which  might  seem  absurd  if  our  canine  family  had 
not  been  our  companions  so  constantly  that  they  seemed  to 
understand  and  accept  his  excuses  as  something  unavoidable 
on  his  part.  The  men  of  our  family  so  appreciated  kindness 
to  dogs  that  I  have  found  myself  this  winter,  involuntarily 
almost,  calling  to  them  to  see  an  evidence  of  affection.  One 
of  my  neighbors  is  a  beer  saloon,  and  though  I  am  too  busy 


160  TENTING    ON    THE    PLAINS. 

to  look  out  of  the  window  much,  I  have  noticed  occasionally 
an  old  express  horse  waiting  for  his  master  to  take  "  some- 
thing warming."  The  blanket  was  humped  up  on  his  back 
mysteriously.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  dear  little  cur,  which  was 
thus  kept  warm  by  a  fond  master.  It  recalls  our  men,  and 
the  ways  they  devised  for  keeping  their  dogs  warm,  the  times 
innumerable  when  they  shared  their  own  blankets  with  them 
when  caught  out  in  a  cold  snap,  or  divided  short  rations 
with  the  dogs  they  loved. 

Returning  to  Ginnie,  I  remember  a  day  when  there  was  a 
strange  disappearance  ;  she  did  not  thump  her  tail  on  the 
door  for  entrance,  fetching  our  stockings  in  her  mouth,  as  a 
gentle  hint  that  it  was  time  to  get  up  and  have  a  fire,  if  the 
morning  was  chilly.  It  did  not  take  the  General  long  to 
scramble  into  his  clothes  and  go  to  investigate,  for  he  dearly 
loved  her,  and  missed  the  morning  call.  Soon  afterward  he 
came  bounding  up  the  stairs,  two  steps  at  a  time,  to  announce 
that  no  harm  had  come  to  our  favorite,  but  that  seven  other 
little  Ginnies  were  now  taking  the  breakfast  provided  by  their 
mother,  under  the  negro  quarters  at  the  rear  of  the  house. 
There  was  great  rejoicing,  and  preparations  to  celebrate  this 
important  event  in  our  family.  Eliza  put  our  room  in  order, 
and  descended  to  the  kitchen  to  tell  what  antics  the  General 
was  performing  over  the  animal.  When  she  was  safely  down- 
stairs, where  she  could  not  intimidate  us,  my  husband  and  I 
departed  to  fetch  the  new  family  up  near  us.  The  General 
would  not  trust  any  one  with  the  responsibility  of  the  removal. 
He  crawled  under  the  building,  which  was  set  up  on  low 
piles,  and  handed  out  the  baby  canines,  one  by  one,  to  me. 
Ginnie  ran  beside  us,  frantic  with  anxiety,  but  her  eloquent 
eyes  full  of  love  and  trust  in  our  intentions. 

Her  bed  in  the  hall  was  hardly  good  enough  for  such  an 
epoch  in  her  life,  so  the  whole  litter,  with  the  proud  mother 
in  their  midst,  was  safely  deposited  in  the  middle  of  our  bed, 
where  we  paid  court  to  this  royalty.  My  husband  went  over 
each  little  shapeless  body,  and  called  my  special  attention  to 
fine  points,  that,  for  the  life  of  me,  dog-lover  as  I  was,  I 


LETTERS    HOME.  l6l 

could  not  discover  in  the  pulpy,  silken-skinned  little  rolls. 
As  he  took  them  up,  one  by  one,  Ginnie  understood  every 
word  of  praise  he  uttered.  After  all  of  these  little  blind  atoms 
had  been  returned  to  their  maternal,  and  the  General  had 
congratulated  the  mother  on  a  restaurant  where,  he  said,  the 
advertisement  of  "warm  meals  at  all  hours "  was  for  once 
true,  he  immediately  set  about  tormenting  Eliza.  Her  out- 
raged spirit  had  suffered  often,  to  see  the  kingly  Byron  re- 
posing his  head  on  the  pillow,  but  the  General  said,  "We 
must  get  her  up-stairs,  for  there  will  be  war  in  the  camp  now." 

Eliza  came  peacefully  up  the  stairs  into  our  room,  but  her 
eyes  blazed  when  she  saw  Ginnie.  She  asked  her  usual  ques- 
tion, "  Did  I  come  way  off  down  in  this  here  no  'count  coun- 
try to  wash  white  counterpanes  for  dogs?"  At  each  speech 
the  General  said  something  to  Ginnie  in  reply,  to  harrow  her 
up  more  and  more,  and  at  last  she  had  to  give  in  and  laugh 
at  some  of  his  drolleries.  She  recalls  to  me  now  her  recollec- 
tion: "Miss  Libbie,  do  you  mind  how  the  Ginnel  landed 
Ginnie  and  her  whole  brood  of  pups  in  the  middle  of  the 
bed,  and  then  had  the  'dacity  to  send  for  me  ?  But,  oh  !  it 
was  perfectly  heartrendin',  the  way  he  would  go  on  about 
his  dogs  when  they  was  sick." 

And  we  both  remembered,  when  one  of  these  little  puppies 
of  our  beloved  Ginnie  was  ill,  how  he  walked  the  floor  half 
the  night,  holding,  rubbing,  trying  to  soothe  the  suffering 
little  beast.  And  in  spite  of  his  medical  treatment — for  he 
kept  the  dog-book  on  his  desk,  and  ransacked  it  for  remedies 
— and  notwithstanding  the  anointing  and  the  coddling,  two 
died. 

After  Eliza  had  come  down  from  her  ram pagious  state,  she 
was  invited  to  take  notice  of  what  a  splendid  family  Ginnie 
had.  Then  all  the  staff  and  the  ladies  came  up  to  call.  It 
was  a  great  occasion  for  Ginnie,  but  she  bore  her  honors 
meekly,  and  offered  her  paw,  as  was  her  old  custom,  to  each 
new-comer,  as  if  prepared  for  congratulations.  When  they 
were  old  enough  to  run  about  and  bark,  Ginnie  took  up  her 
former  habit  of  following  at  the  General's  heels  ;  and  as  he 


l62  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

crossed  the  yard  to  the  stables  there  was  so  absurd  a  proces- 
sion that  1  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  commanding  offi- 
cer, and  question  if  he  himself  thought  it  added  to  the  dignity 
of  his  appearance,  to  see  the  court-like  trail  of  mother  and 
five  puppies  in  his  wake.  The  independence  of  the  chief  was 
too  inborn  to  be  laughed  to  scorn  about  appearances,  and  so 
he  continued  to  go  about,  as  long  as  these  wee  toddlers  fol- 
lowed their  mother  in  quest  of  supplies.  I  believe  there  were 
twenty-three  dogs  at  this  time  about  our  house,  most  of  them 
ours.  Even  our  father  Custer  accepted  a  bulky  old  cur  as  a 
gift.  There  was  no  manner  of  doubt  about  the  qualities  that 
had  influenced  our  persecuted  parent  in  selecting  this  one 
from  the  numerous  dogs  offered  him  by  his  farmer  friends. 
His  choice  was  made  neither  on  account  of  breeding  nor 
speed.  The  cur  was  selected  solely  as  a  watch-dog.  He  was 
all  growl  and  bark,  and  as  devotion  is  not  confined,  fortu- 
nately, to  the  canines  of  exalted  paternity,  the  lumbering  old 
fellow  was  faithful.  Nothing  describes  him  better  than  some 
lines  from  "  The  Outside  Dog  in  the  Fight ;  "  for  though  he 
could  threaten  with  savage  growls,  and,  I  fancy,  when  aggra- 
vated, could  have  set  savage  teeth  in  the  enemy  of  his  mas- 
ter, he  trotted  beside  our  father's  horse  very  peacefully,  un- 
mindful of  the  quarrelsome  members  of  our  canine  family, 
who  bristled  up  to  him,  inviting  an  encounter  merely  to  pass 
the  time. 

"  You  may  sing  of  your  dog,  your  bottom  dog, 
Or  of  any  dog  that  you  please  ; 

I  go  for  the  dog,  the  wise  old  dog, 
That  knowingly  takes  his  ease, 

And  wagging  his  tail  outside  the  ring, 
Keeping  always  his  bone  in  sight, 

Cares  not  a  pin,  in  his  wise  old  head, 
For  either  dog  in  the  fight. 

*'  Not  his  is  the  bone  they  are  fighting  for, 

And  why  should  my  dog  sail  in, 
With  nothing  to  gain  but  a  certain  chance 
To  lose  his  own  precious  skin  ? 


LETTERS    HOME.  163 

There  may  be  a  few,  perhaps,  who  fail 
To  see  it  in  quite  this  light  ; 

But  when  the  fur  flies  I  had  rather  be 

The  outside  dog  in  the  fight." 

Affairs  had  come  to  such  a  pass  that  our  father  took  his 
yellow  cur  into  his  bedroom  at  night.  It  was  necessary  to 
take  prompt,  precautionary  measures  to  keep  his  sons  from 
picking  the  lock  of  the  door  and  descending  on  him  in  their 
marauding  expeditions.  The  dog  saw  comparatively  little  of 
outside  life,  for,  as  time  rounded,  it  became  necessary  for  the 
old  gentleman  to  shut  up  his  body-guard  daytimes  also,  as 
he  found  in  his  absence  these  same  sons  and  their  confeder- 
ates had  a  fashion  of  dropping  a  little  "  nig  "  over  the  transom, 
with  directions  to  fetch  back  to  them  anything  he  could  lay 
his  hands  on.  I  have  seen  them  at  the  door  while  our  father 
was  away,  trying  to  soothe  and  cajole  the  old  guardian  of  his 
master's  effects  into  terms  of  peace.  After  all  overtures  were 
declined,  and  the  little  bedroom  was  filled  up  with  bark  and 
growl,  the  invaders  contented  themselves  with  tossing  all 
sorts  of  missiles  over  the  transom,  which  did  not  sweeten  the 
enraged  dog's  temper.  Nor  did  it  render  our  father's  bed  as 
downy  as  it  might  have  been. 

I  find  myself  recalling  with  a  smile  the  perfectly  satisfied 
manner  in  which  this  ungainly  old  dog  was  taken  out  by  his 
venerable  owner  on  our  rides  over  the  country.  Father  Cus- 
ter  had  chosen  him,  not  for  his  beauty,  but  as  his  companion, 
and  finding  him  so  successful  in  this  one  capacity,  he  was 
just  as  serene  over  his  possession  as  ever  his  sons  were  with 
their  high-bred  hunters.  The  dog  looked  as  if  he  were  a 
make-up  from  all  the  rough  clay  that  was  discarded  after 
modeling  the  sleek,  high-stepping,  springy,  fleet-footed  dogs 
of  our  pack.  His  legs  were  massive,  while  his  cumbersome 
tail  curled  over  his  plebeian  back  in  a  tight  coil,  until  he  was 
tired — then,  and  only  then,  did  it  uncurl.  The  droop  of  his 
head  was  rendered  even  more  ' '  loppy  "  by  the  tongue,  which 
dropped  outside  the  sagging  jaw.  But  for  all  that,  he  lum- 
bered along,  a  blotch  of  ungainly  yellow,  beside  our  splendid 


164  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

thoroughbreds  ;  he  was  never  so  tired  that  he  could  not  un- 
derstand the  voice  of  a  proud  old  man,  who  assured  his  retro- 
grade sons  that  he  "would  match  his  Bowser  'gainst  any  of 
their  new-fangled,  unreliable,  highfalutin  lot." 

It  was  a  strange  sight,  though,  this  one  plebeian  among 
patricians.  Our  horses  were  fine,  our  father  got  good  speed 
and  some  style  out  of  his  nag,  our  dogs  leaped  over  the  coun- 
try like  deer,  and  there  in  the  midst,  panting  and  faithfully 
struggling  to  keep  up,  was  the  rough,  uncouth  old  fellow, 
too  absorbed  in  endeavoring  not  to  be  left  behind  to  realize 
that  he  was  not  all  that  a  dog  could  finally  become,  after  gen- 
erations of  training  and  breeding  had  done  its  refining  work. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DISTURBED  CONDITION   OF  TEXAS. 

TEXAS  was  in  a  state  of  ferment  from  one  end  to  the  other. 
There  was  then  no  network  of  railroads  running  over  its  vast 
territory  as  there  is  now.  Lawless  acts  might  be  perpetrated, 
and  the  inciters  cross  the  Rio  Grande  into  Mexico,  before 
news  of  the  depredations  came  to  either  military  or  civil  head- 
quarters. The  regiments  stationed  at  various  points  in  the 
State  had  no  easy  duty.  Jayhawkers,  bandits  and  bush- 
whackers had  everything  their  own  way  for  a  time.  1  now 
find,  through  official  reports,  what  innumerable  perplexities 
came  up  almost  daily,  and  how  difficult  it  was  for  an  officer 
in  command  of  a  division  to  act  in  perfect  justice  to  citizen, 
soldier  and  negro.  It  was  the  most  natural  result  in  the 
world  that  the  restless  throng  let  loose  over  the  State  from 
the  Confederate  service,  should  do  what  idle  hands  usually 
find  to  do.  Consider  what  a  land  of  tramps  we  were  at  the 
North,  after  the  war  ;  and  if,  in  our  prosperous  States  and 
Territories,  when  so  many  business  industries  were  at  once 
resumed,  we  suffered  from  that  class  of  men  who  refused  to 
work  and  kept  outside  the  pale  of  the  law  by  a  stealthy  exist- 
ence, what  would  naturally  be  the  condition  of  affairs  in  a 
country  like  Texas,  for  many  years  the  hiding-place  of  out- 
laws? 

My  own  father  was  one  of  the  most  patriotic  men  I  ever 
knew.  He  was  too  old  to  enter  the  service — an  aged  man 
even  in  my  sight,  for  he  had  not  married  till  he  was  forty; 
but  in  every  way  that  he  could  serve  his  country  at  home  he 
was  foremost  among  the  elderly  patriots  of  the  North.  I  re- 
member how  little  war  moved  me.  The  clash  of  arms  and 

165 


166  TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

glitter  of  the  soldiery  only  appealed  to  me  as  it  did  to 
thoughtless,  light-hearted  young  girls  still  without  soldier 
lovers  or  brothers,  who  lived  too  far  from  the  scenes  of  bat- 
tle to  know  the  tragic  side.  But  my  father  impressed  me  by 
his  sadness,  his  tears,  his  lamentations  over  our  country's 
misfortunes.  He  was  the  first  in  town  to  get  the  news  from 
the  front,  and  so  eager  to  hear  the  result  of  some  awful  day, 
when  lives  were  being  lost  by  thousands  on  a  hotly  contested 
field,  that  he  walked  a  bleak,  lonely  mile  to  the  telegraph 
station,  waiting  till  midnight  for  the  last  despatches,  and 
weeping  over  defeats  as  he  wearily  trod  the  long  way  home- 
ward. I  remember  his  striding  up  and  down  the  floor,  his 
grand  head  bent  over  his  chest  in  grief,  and  saying,  so  sol- 
emnly as  to  arrest  the  attention  of  my  stepmother,  usually 
absorbed  in  domestic  affairs,  and  even  of  me,  too  happy  then 
with  the  very  exuberance  of  living  to  think,  while  the  sad- 
ness of  his  voice  touched  even  our  thoughtlessness:  "Oh! 
the  worst  of  this  calamity  will  not  be  confined  to  war:  our 
land,  even  after  peace  is  restored,  will  be  filled  with  cut- 
throats and  villains." 

The  prediction  came  true  immediately  in  Texas,  and  the 
troops  had  to  be  stationed  over  the  extensive  territory.  Be- 
fore the  winter  was  over,  the  civil  authorities  began  to  be 
able  to  carry  out  the  laws;  they  worked,  as  they  were  obliged 
to  do,  in  connection  with  the  military,  and  the  rioting,  op- 
pressions and  assassinations  were  becoming  less  common.  It 
was  considered  unnecessary  to  retain  the  division  of  cavalry 
as  an  organization,  since  all  anticipated  trouble  with  Mexico 
was  over,  and  the  troops  need  no  longer  be  massed  in  great 
numbers.  The  necessity  for  a  special  commander  for  the 
cavalry  in  the  State  was  over,  and  the  General  was  therefore 
mustered  out  of  service  as  a  major-general  of  volunteers,  and 
ordered  North  to  await  his  assignment  to  a  new  station. 

We  had  very  little  to  do  in  preparation,  as  our  camp  outfit 
was  about  all  our  earthly  possessions  at  that  time.  It  was  a 
trial  to  part  with  the  elderly  dogs,  which  were  hardly  worth 
the  experiment  of  transporting  to  the  North,  especially  as  we 


DISTURBED  CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.          167 

had  no  reason  to  suppose  we  should  see  another  deer,  except 
in  zoological  gardens.  The  hounds  fell  into  good  and  ap- 
preciative hands,  being  given  either  to  the  planter  who  had 
presented  them,  or  to  the  officers  of  the  regular  regiment 
that  had  just  been  stationed  in  Texas  for  a  five-years'  detail. 
The  cow  was  returned  to  the  generous  planter  who  lent 
her  to  us.  She  was  now  a  fat,  sleek  creature,  compared  with 
her  appearance  when  she  came  from  among  the  ranch  cattle. 
The  stables  were  emptied,  and  our  brief  enjoyment  of  an  em- 
bryo blue-grass  farm,  with  a  diminutive  private  track  of  our 
own,  was  at  an  end.  Jack  Rucker,  Custis  Lee,  Phil  and  the 
blooded  mare  were  to  go;  but  the  great  bargains  in  fast  ponies 
had  to  be  sacrificed. 

My  old  father  Custer  had  been  as  concerned  about  my 
horse  education  as  his  sons.  He  also  tried,  as  well  as  his 
boys,  to  attract  my  attention  from  the  flowing  manes  and 
tails,  by  which  alone  I  judged  the  merits  of  a  horse,  to  the 
shoulders,  length  of  limb,  withers,  etc.  One  day  there  came 
an  incentive  for  perfecting  myself  in  horse  lore,  for  my  hus- 
band said  that  if  I  would  select  the  best  pony  in  a  number 
we  then  owned,  I  should  have  him.  I  sat  on  a  keg  in  the 
stable-yard,  contemplating  the  heels  of  the  horses,  and  wish- 
ing fervently  I  had  listened  to  my  former  lessons  in  horse- 
flesh more  attentively.  All  three  men  laughed  at  my  perplex- 
ities, and  even  the  soldiers  who  took  care  of  the  stable  re- 
tired to  a  safe  place  to  smile  at  the  witticisms  of  their  com- 
manding officer,  and  were  so  deplorably  susceptible  to  fun 
that  even  the  wife  of  their  chief  was  a  subject  for  merriment. 
1  was  in  imminent  danger  of  losing  my  chance  at  owning  a 
horse,  and  might  to  this  day  have  remained  ignorant  of  the  pe- 
culiarly proud  sensation  one  experiences  over  that  possession, 
if  my  father  Custer  had  not  slyly  and  surreptitiously  come 
over  to  my  side.  How  he  cunningly  imparted  the  informa- 
tion I  will  not  betray;  but,  since  he  was  as  good  a  judge  of  a 
horse  as  his  sons,  and  had  taught  them  their  wisdom  in  that 
direction,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  my  final  judgment,  after 
repeated  returns  to  the  stable,  was  triumphant.  Texas  made 


GENERAL    CUSTER   AT   THE    CLOSE    OF   THE    WAR-AGED    25. 


DISTURBED  CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.  169 

the  old  saw  read,  All  is  fair  in  love,  war  and  horse-trades,  so 
I  adapted  myself  to  the  customs  of  the  country,  and  kept  the 
secret  of  my  wise  judgment  until  the  money  that  the  pony 
brought — forty  dollars  in  silver — was  safely  deposited  in  my 
grasping  palm.  I  will  not  repeat  the  scoffing  of  the  out- 
witted pair,  after  I  had  spent  the  money,  at  "  Libbie's  horse- 
dress,"  but  content  myself  with  my  father's  praise  at  the 
gown  he  had  secured  to  me,  when  I  enjoyed  at  the  North  the 
serenity  of  mind  that  comes  of  silken  attire. 

The  planters  came  to  bid  us  good-by,  and  we  parted  from 
them  with  reluctance.  We  had  come  into  their  State  under  try- 
ing circumstances,  and  the  cordiality,  generosity  and  genuine 
good  feeling  that  I  know  they  felt,  made  our  going  a  regret. 
There  was  no  reason  why  they  should  come  from  their  distant 
plantations  to  say  good-by  and  wish  us  godspeed,  except 
from  personal  friendship,  and  we  all  appreciated  the  wish 
they  expressed  that  we  might  remain. 

The  journey  from  Austin  to  Hempstead  was  made  much 
more  quickly  than  our  march  over.  We  had  relays  of  horses, 
the  roads  were  good,  and  there  was  no  detention.  I  only 
remember  one  episode  of  any  importance.  At  the  little  ho- 
tel at  which  we  stopped  in  Brennan,  we  found  loitering  about 
the  doors  and  stoop  and  inner  court  a  lounging,  rough  lot  of 
men,  evidently  the  lower  order  of  Confederate  soldiers,  the 
lawless  set  that  infest  all  armies,  the  tramp  and  the  bummer. 
They  gathered  in  knots,  to  watch  and  talk  of  us.  As  we 
passed  them  on  our  way  to  the  dining-room,  they  muttered, 
and  even  spoke  audibly,  words  of  spiteful  insult.  At  every 
such  word  I  expected  the  fiery  blood  of  the  General  and  his 
staff  would  be  raised  to  fighting  heat.  But  they  would  not 
descend  to  altercation  with  fellows  to  whom  even  the  presence 
of  a  woman  was  no  restraint.  It  was  a  mystery,  it  still  is, 
to  me,  that  hot-blooded  men  can  control  themselves  if  they 
consider  the  foeman  unworthy  of  the  steel.  My  husband  was 
ever  a  marvel  to  me,  in  that  he  could  in  this  respect  carry 
out  his  own  oft-repeated  counsel.  I  began  very  early  with 
that  old  maxim,  "consider  the  source,"  as  a  subterfuge  for 


170  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

the  lack  of  repartee,  in  choking  senseless  wrath;  but  it  came 
to  be  a  family  aphorism,  and  I  was  taught  to  live  up  to  its 
best  meaning.  The  Confederates  were  only  "barking,"  not 
"biting,"  as  the  General  said  would  be  the  case;  but  they 
gave  me  a  genuine  scare,  and  I  had  serious  objections  to 
traveling  in  Texas  unaccompanied  by  a  Division  of  cavalry. 
I  think  the  cold  nights,  smoky  camp-fires,  tarantulas,  etc., 
that  we  encountered  on  our  march  over,  would  have  been 
gladly  undertaken  rather  than  run  into  the  face  of  threaten- 
ing men,  unaccompanied  by  a  single  trooper,  as  we  then 
traveled. 

I  wonder  what  the  present  tourist  would  think  of  the  bit 
of  railroad  over  which  we  journeyed  from  Brennan  to  Gal- 
veston  !  I  scarcely  think  it  had  been  touched,  in  the  way  of 
repairs,  during  the  war.  The  coaches  were  not  as  good  as 
our  present  emigrant  cars.  The  rails  were  worn  down  thin, 
and  so  loosely  secured  that  they  moved  as  we  rolled  slowly 
over  them.  We  were  to  be  constantly  in  some  sort  of  peril,  it 
seemed.  There  was  a  deep  gully  on  the  route,  over  which 
was  stretched  a  cobweb  trestle,  intended  only  as  a  temporary 
bridge.  There  was  no  sort  of  question  about  its  insecurity; 
it  quivered  and  menacingly  swayed  under  us.  The  conductor 
told  us  that  each  time  he  crossed  he  expected  to  go  down.  I 
think  he  imagined  there  could  be  no  better  time  than  that, 
when  it  would  secure  the  effectual  departure  of  a  few  Yankee 
officers,  not  only  from  what  he  considered  his  invaded  State, 
but  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  At  any  rate,  he  so  graphic- 
ally described  to  me  our  imminent  peril  that  he  put  me 
through  all  the  preliminary  stages  of  sudden  death.  Of 
course,  our  officers,  inured  to  risks  of  all  sorts,  took  it  all  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and  the  General  slyly  called  the  atten- 
tion of  our  circle  to  the  usual  manner  in  which  the  "  old  lady  " 
met  danger,  namely,  with  her  head  buried  in  the  folds  of 
a  cloak. 

My  husband  knew  what  interest  and  admiration  my  father 
Bacon  had  for  "  old  Sam  Houston,"  and  he  himself  felt  the  de- 
light that  one  soldier  takes  in  the  adventures  and  vicissitudes 


DISTURBED  CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.  i;i 

of  another.  Consequently,  we  had  listened  all  winter  to  the 
Texans'  laudation  of  their  hero,  and  many  a  story  that  never 
found  its  way  into  print  was  remembered  for  my  father's  sake. 
We  were  only  too  sorry  that  Houston's  death,  two  years  pre- 
vious, had  prevented  our  personal  acquaintance.  He  was 
not,  as  I  had  supposed,  an  ignorant  soldier  of  fortune,  but 
had  early  scholarly  tastes,  and,  even  when  a  boy,  could  re- 
peat nearly  all  of  Pope's  translation  of  the  Iliad.  Though  a 
Virginian  by  birth,  he  early  went  with  his  widowed  mother 
to  Tennessee,  and  his  roving  spirit  led  him  among  the  In- 
dians, where  he  lived  for  years  as  the  adopted  son  of  a  chief. 
He  served  as  an  enlisted  man  under  Andrew  Jackson  in  the 
war  of  1812,  and  afterward  became  a  lieutenant  in  the  regu- 
lar army.  Then  he  assumed  the  office  of  Indian  agent,  and 
befriended  those  with  whom  he  had  lived. 

From  that  he  went  into  law  in  Nashville,  and  eventually 
became  a  Congressman.  Some  marital  difficulties  drove  him 
back  to  barbarism,  and  he  rejoined  the  Cherokees,  who  had 
been  removed  to  Arkansas.  He  went  to  Washington  to 
plead  for  the  tribe,  and  returning,  left  his  wigwam  among  the 
Indians  after  a  time,  and  went  to  Texas.  During  the  tumult- 
uous history  of  that  State,  when  it  was  being  shifted  from  one 
government  to  another  with  such  vehemence,  no  citizen  could 
tell  whether  he  would  rise  in  the  morning  a  Mexican,  or  a  mem- 
ber of  an  independent  republic.or  a  citizen  of  the  United  States. 

With  all  that  period  Sam  Houston  was  identified.  He  was 
evidently  the  man  for  the  hour,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  our 
officers  dwelt  with  delight  upon  his  marvelous  career.  In  the 
first  revolutionary  movement  of  Texas  against  Mexican  rule, he 
began  to  be  leader,  and  was  soon  commander-in-chief  of  the 
Texan  army,  and  in  the  new  Republic  he  was  reflected  to  that 
office.  The  dauntless  man  confronted  Santa  Anna  and  his  force 
of  5,000  men  with  a  handful  of  Texans — 783  all  told,  undisci- 
plined volunteers,  ignorant  of  war.  But  he  had  that  rare  per- 
sonal magnetism,  which  is  equal  to  a  reserve  of  armed  bat- 
talions, in  giving  men  confidence  and  inciting  them  to  splen- 
did deeds.  Out  of  i, 600  regular  Mexican  soldiers,  600  were 


1/2  TENTING   ON  THE  PLAINS. 

killed,  and  Santa  Anna,  disguised  as  a  common  soldier,  was 
captured.  Then  Houston  showed  his  magnanimous  heart; 
for,  after  rebuking  him  for  the  massacres  of  Goliad  and  the 
Alamo,  he  protected  him  from  the  vengeance  of  the  enraged 
Texans.  A  treaty  made  with  the  captive  President  resulted 
in  the  independence  of  Texas.  When,  after  securing  this  to 
the  State  of  his  adoption,  Houston  was  made  President  of 
Texas,  he  again  showed  his  wonderful  clemency — which  I 
cannot  help  believing  was  early  fostered  and  enhanced  by  his 
labors  in  behalf  of  the  wronged  Cherokees — in  pardoning 
Santa  Anna,  and  appointing  his  political  rivals  to  offices  of 
trust.  If  Mr.  Lincoln  gave  every  energy  to  promoting  the 
perpetual  annexation  of  California,  by  tethering  that  State  to 
our  Republic  with  an  iron  lariat  crossing  the  continent,  how 
quickly  he  would  have  seen,  had  he  then  been  in  office,  what 
infinite  peril  we  were  in  of  losing  that  rich  portion  of  our 
country. 

The  ambition  of  the  soldier  and  conqueror  was  tempered 
by  the  most  genuine  patriotism,  for  Sam  Houston  used  his 
whole  influence  to  annex  Texas  to  the  Union,  and  the  people 
in  gratitude  sent  him  to  Washington  as  one  of  their  first 
Senators.  As  President  he  had  overcome  immense  difficul- 
ties, carried  on  Indian  wars,  cleared  off  an  enormous  debt, 
established  trade  with  Mexico,  made  successful  Indian  treaties, 
and  steadily  stood  at  the  helm,  while  the  State  was  undergo- 
ing all  sorts  of  upheavals.  Finally  he  was  made  Governor  of 
the  State,  and  opposed  secession,  even  resigning  his  office 
rather  than  take  the  oath  required  by  the  convention  that 
assembled  to  separate  Texas  from  the  Union.  Then,  poor 
old  man,  he  died  before  he  was  permitted  to  see  the  promised 
land,  as  the  war  was  still  in  progress.  His  name  is  perpet- 
uated in  the  town  called  for  him,  which,  as  the  centre  of  large 
railroad  interests,  and  as  a  leader  in  the  march  of  improve- 
ment in  that  rapidly  progressing  State,  will  be  a  lasting  monu- 
ment to  a  great  man  who  did  so  much  to  bring  out  of  chaos 
a  vast  extent  of  our  productive  land,  sure  to  become  one  of 
the  richest  of  the  luxuriant  Southern  States, 


DISTURBED   CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.  173, 

At  Galveston  we  were  detained  by  the  non-arrival  of  the 
steamer  in  which  we  were  to  go  to  New  Orleans.  With  a 
happy-go-lucky  party  like  ours,  it  mattered  little ;  no  impor- 
tant interests  were  at  stake,  no  business  appointments  await- 
ing us.  We  strolled  the  town  over,  and  commented,  as  if  we 
owned  it,  on  the  insecurity  of  its  foundations.  Indeed,  for 
years  after,  we  were  surprised,  on  taking  up  the  morning 
paper,  not  to  find  that  Galveston  had  dropped  down  into 
China.  The  spongy  soil  is  so  porous  that  the  water,  on  which 
rests  the  thin  layer  of  earth,  appears  as  soon  as  a  shallow  ex- 
cavation is  attempted.  Of  course  there  are  no  wells,  and  the 
ungainly  cistern  rises  above  the  roof  at  the  rear  of  the  house. 
The  hawkers  of  water  through  the  town  amused  us  vastly, 
especially  as  we  were  not  obliged  to  pay  a  dollar  a  gallon,  ex- 
cept as  it  swelled  our  hotel-bill.  I  remember  how  we  all  de- 
lighted in  the  oleanders  that  grew  as  shade-trees,  whose 
white  and  red  blossoms  were  charming.  To  the  General,  the 
best  part  of  all  our  detention  was  the  shell  drive  along  the 
ocean.  The  island  on  which  Galveston  has  its  insecure  foot- 
ing is  twenty-eight  miles  long,  and  the  white,  firm  beach, 
glistening  with  the  pulverized  shells  extending  all  the  dis- 
tance, was  a  delight  to  us  as  we  spent  hours  out  there  on  the 
shore. 

It  must  surely  have  been  this  white  and  sparkling  thread 
bordering  the  island,  that  drew  the  ships  of  the  pirate  Lafitte 
to  moor  in  the  harbor  early  in  1800.  The  rose-pink  of  the 
oleander,  the  blue  of  the  sky,  the  luminous  beach,  with  the 
long,  ultramarine  waves  sweeping  in  over  the  shore,  were 
fascinating;  but  on  our  return  to  the  town,  all  the  desire  to 
remain  was  taken  away  by  the  tale  of  the  citizens,  of  the  fre- 
quent rising  of  the  ocean,  the  submerging  of  certain  portions, 
and  the  evidence  they  gave  that  the  earth  beneath  them  was 
honeycombed  by  the  action  of  the  water. 

We  paid  little  heed  at  first  to  the  boat  on  which  we  em- 
barked. It  was  a  captured  blockade-runner,  built  up  with 
two  stories  of  cabins  and  staterooms  for  passengers.  In  its 
original  condition,  the  crew  and  passengers,  as  well  as  the 


174  TENTING  ON  THE   PLAINS. 

freight,  were  down  in  the  hull.  The  steamer  was  crowded. 
Our  staterooms  were  tiny,  and  though  they  were  on  the  upper 
deck,  the  odor  of  bilge  water  and  the  untidiness  of  the  boat 
made  us  uncomfortable  from  the  first.  The  day  was  sunny 
and  clear  as  we  departed,  and  we  had  hardly  left  the  harbor 
before  we  struck  a  norther.  Such  a  hurricane  as  it  was  at 
sea!  We  had  thought  ourselves  versed  in  all  the  wind  could 
do  on  land;  but  a  norther  in  that  maelstrom  of  a  Gulf,  makes 
a  land  storm  mild  in  comparison.  The  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  al- 
most always  a  tempest  in  a  tea-pot.  The  waves  seem  to  lash 
themselves  from  shore  to  shore,  and  after  speeding  with  tor- 
nado fleetness  toward  the  borders  of  Mexico,  back  they  rush 
to  the  Florida  peninsula.  No  one  can  be  out  in  one  of  these 
tempests,  without  wondering  why  that  thin  jet  of  land  which 
composes  Florida  has  not  long  ago  been  swept  out  of  exist- 
ence. How  many  of  our  troops  have  suffered  from  the  fury 
of  that  ungovernable  Gulf,  in  the  transit  from  New  Orleans 
to  Matamoras  or  Galveston!  And  officers  have  spoken,  over 
and  over  again,  of  the  sufferings  of  the  cavalry  horses,  con- 
demned to  the  hold  of  a  Government  transport.  Ships  have 
gone  down  there  with  soldiers  and  officers  who  have  encoun- 
tered, over  and  over  again,  the  perils  of  battle.  Transports 
have  only  been  saved  from  being  engulfed  in  those  rapacious 
waves  by  unloading  the  ship  of  hundreds  of  horses;  and  to 
cavalrymen  the  throwing  overboard  of  noble  animals  that 
have  been  untiring  in  years  of  campaigning,  and  by  their 
fleetness  and  pluck  have  saved  the  lives  of  their  masters,  is 
like  human  sacrifice.  Officers  and  soldiers  alike  bewail  the 
loss,  and  for  years  after  speak  of  it  with  sorrow. 

Though  the  wind  seems  to  blow  in  a  circle  much  of  the 
time  on  the  Gulf,  we  found  it  dead  against  us  as  we  pro- 
ceeded. The  captain  was  a  resolute  man,  and  would  not 
turn  back,  though  the  ship  was  ill  prepared  to  encounter 
such  a  gale.  We  labored  slowly  though  the  constantly  in- 
creasing tempest,  and  the  last  glimpse  of  daylight  lighted  a 
sea  that  was  lashed  to  white  foam  about  us.  At  home,  when 
the  sun  sets  the  wind  abates;  but  one  must  look  for  an  entire 


DISTURBED   CONDITION   OF    TEXAS.  175 

change  of  programme  where  the  norther  reigns.  There  was 
no  use  in  remaining  up,  so  I  sought  to  forget  my  terror  in 
sleep,  and  crept  onto  one  of  the  little  shelves  allotted  to  us. 
The  creaking  and  groaning  of  the  ship's  timbers  filled  me 
with  alarm,  and  I  could  not  help  calling  up  to  my  husband 
to  ask  if  it  did  not  seem  to  him  that  all  the  new  portion  of 
the  steamer  would  be  swept  off  into  the  sea.  Though  I  was 
comforted  by  assurances  of  its  impossibility,  I  wished  with  all 
my  heart  we  were  down  in  the  hold.  Sleep,  my  almost 
never-failing  friend,  came  to  calm  me,  and  I  dreamed  of  the 
strange  days  of  the  blockade-runner,  when  doubtless  other 
women's  hearts  were  pounding  against  their  ribs  with  more 
alarming  terrors  than  those  that  agitated  me.  For  we  well 
knew  what  risks  Confederate  women  took  to  join  their  hus- 
bands, in  the  stormy  days  on  sea  as  well  as  on  land. 

In  the  night  I  was  awakened  suddenly  by  a  fearful  crash, 
the  quick  veering  of  the  boat,  and  her  violent  rolling  from 
side  to  side.  At  the  same  instant,  the  overturning  of  the 
water-pitcher  deluged  me  in  my  narrow  berth.  My  husband, 
hearing  my  cry  of  terror,  descended  from  his  berth  and  was 
beside  me  in  a  moment.  No  one  comprehended  what  had 
happened.  The  crashing  of  timber,  and  the  creaking,  grind- 
ing sounds  rose  above  the  storm.  The  machinery  was  stopped, 
and  we  plunged  back  and  forth  in  the  trough  of  the  sea,  each 
time  seeming  to  go  down  deeper  and  deeper,  until  there  ap- 
peared to  be  no  doubt  that  the  ship  would  be  eventually  en- 
gulfed. There  seemed  to  be  no  question,  as  the  breaking  of 
massive  beams  went  on,  that  we  were  going  to  pieces.  The 
ship  made  a  brave  fight  with  the  elements,  and  seemed  to 
writhe  and  struggle  like  something  human. 

In  the  midst  of  this,  the  shouts  of  the  sailors,  the  trumpet 
of  the  captain  giving  orders,  went  on,  and  was  followed  by 
the  creaking  of  chains,  the  strain  of  the  cordage,  and  the  mad 
thrashing  to  and  fro  of  the  canvas,  which  we  supposed  had 
been  torn  from  the  spars.  Instant  disorder  took  possession 
of  the  cabin.  Everything  movable  was  in  motion.  The 
trunks,  which  the  crowded  condition  of  the  hold  had  com- 


TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 


pelled  us  to  put  in  the  upper  end  of  the  cabin,  slid  down  the 
carpet,  banging  from  side  to  side.  The  furniture  broke  from 
its  fastenings,  and  slipped  to  and  fro;  the  smashing  of  lamps 
in  our  cabin  was  followed  by  the  crash  of  crockery  in  the  ad- 
joining dining-room;  while  above  all  these  sounds  rose  the 
cries  and  wails  of  the  women.  Some,  kneeling  in  their 
night-clothes,  prayed  loudly,  while  others  sank  in  heaps  on 
the  floor,  moaning  and  weeping  in  their  helpless  condition. 
The  calls  of  frantic  women,  asking  for  some  one  to  go  and 
find  if  we  were  going  down,  were  unanswered  by  the  terrified 
men.  Meanwhile  my  husband,  having  implored  me  to  remain 
in  one  spot,  and  not  attempt  to  follow  him,  hastily  threw  on 
his  clothes  and  left  me,  begging  that  I  would  remember, 
while  he  was  absent,  that  the  captain's  wife  and  child  were 
with  us,  and  if  a  man  ever  was  nerved  to  do  his  best,  that 
brave  husband  and  father  would  do  so  to-night. 

It  seemed  an  eternity  to  wait.  I  was  obliged  to  cling  to 
the  door  to  be  kept  from  being  dashed  across  the  cabin. 
While  I  wept  and  shivered,  and  endured  double  agony,  know- 
ing into  what  peril  my  husband  had  by  that  time  struggled, 
I  felt  warm,  soft  arms  about  me,  and  our  faithful  Eliza  was 
crooning  over  me,  begging  me  to  be  comforted,  that  she  was 
there  holding  me.  Awakened  at  the  end  of  the  cabin,  where 
she  slept  on  a  sofa,  she  thought  of  nothing  but  making  her 
way  through  the  demolished  furniture,  to  take  me  in  her 
protecting  arms.  Every  one  who  knows  the  negro  character 
is  aware  what  their  terrors  are  at  sea.  How,  then,  can  I  re- 
call the  noble  forgetfulness  of  self  of  that  faithful  soul,  with- 
out tears  of  gratitude  as  fresh  as  those  that  flowed  on  her 
tender  breast  when  she  held  me  ?  There  was  not  a  vestige 
of  the  heroic  about  me.  I  simply  cowered  in  a  corner,  and 
let  Eliza  shelter  me.  Besides,  I  felt  that  I  had  a  kind  of 
right  to  yield  to  selfish  fright,  for  it  was  my  husband,  of  all 
the  men  on  shipboard,  who  had  climbed  laboriously  to  the 
deck  to  do  what  he  could  for  our  safety,  and  calm  the  agi- 
tated women  below. 

Some  of  the  noble  Southern  women  proved  how  deep  was 


DISTURBED   CONDITION    OF   TEXAS.  177 

their  natural  goodness  of  heart;  for  the  very  ones  who  had 
coldly  looked  me  over  and  shrunk  from  a  hated  Yankee  when 
we  met  the  day  before,  crept  slowly  up  to  calm  my  terrors 
about  my  husband,  and  instruct  Eliza  what  to  do  for  me.  At 
last — and  oh,  how  interminable  the  time  had  seemed! — the 
General  opened  the  cabin  door,  and  struggled  along  to  the 
weeping  women.  They  all  plied  him  with  questions,  and  he 
was  able  to  calm  them,  so  the  wailing  and  praying  subsided 
somewhat.  When  he  climbed  up  the  companionway,  the 
waves  were  dashing  over  the  entire  deck,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled to  creep  on  his  hands  and  knees,  clinging  to  ropes  and 
spars  as  best  he  could,  till  he  reached  the  pilot-house.  Only 
his  superb  strength  kept  him  from  being  swept  overboard. 
Every  inch  of  his  progress  was  a  deadly  peril.  He  found  the 
calm  captain  willing  to  explain,  and  paid  the  tribute  that  one 
brave  man  gives  another  in  moments  of  peril.  The  norther 
had  broken  in  the  wheel-house,  and  disabled  the  machinery, 
so  that,  but  for  the  sails,  which  we  who  were  below  had  heard 
raised,  we  must  have  drifted  and  tossed  to  shipwreck.  If  he 
could  make  any  progress,  we  were  comparatively  safe,  but 
with  such  a  hurricane  all  was  uncertain.  This  part  of  the 
captain's  statement  the  General  suppressed.  We  women 
were  told,  after  the  fashion  of  men  who  desire  to  comfort 
and  calm  our  sex,  only  a  portion  of  the  truth. 

The  motion  of  the  boat,  as  it  rolled  from  side  to  side,  made 
every  one  succumb  except  Eliza  and  me.  The  General,  com- 
pletely subdued  and  intensely  wretched  physically,  crept  into 
his  berth,  and  though  he  was  so  miserable,  I  remember,  tow- 
ard morning,  a  faint  thrust  of  ridicule  at  our  adjoining  neigh- 
bors, the  Greenes,  who  were  suffering  also  the  tortures  of  sea- 
sickness. A  sarcastic  query  as  to  the  stability  of  their 
stomachs  called  forth  a  retort  that  he  had  better  look  to  his 
own.  Eliza  held  me  untiringly,  and  though  the  terror  of  un- 
certainty had  subsided  somewhat,  I  could  not  get  on  without 
an  assurance  of  our  safety  from  that  upper  berth.  My  hus- 
band, in  his  helplessness,  and  abandoned  as  he  was  to  physi- 
cal misery,  could  scarcely  turn  to  speak  more  than  a  word  or 


1/8  TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

two  at  a  time,  and  even  then  Eliza  would  tell  him,  "  Ginnel, 
you  jest  'tend  to  your  own  self,  and  I'll  'tend -to  Miss  Libbie." 

It  is  difficult  to  explain  what  a  shock  it  is  to  find  one  who 
never  succumbs,  entirely  subjugated  by  suffering;  all  support 
seems  to  be  removed.  In  all  our  vicissitudes,  I  had  never  be- 
fore seen  the  General  go  under  for  an  instant.  He  replied 
that  he  was  intensely  sorry  for  me ;  but  such  deadly  nausea 
made  him  indifferent  to  life,  and  for  his  part  he  cared  not 
whether  he  went  up  or  down. 

So  the  long  night  wore  on.  I  thought  no  dawn  ever 
seemed  so  grateful.  The  waves  were  mountains  high,  and 
we  still  plunged  into  what  appeared  to  be  solid  banks  of 
green,  glittering  crystal,  only  to  drop  down  into  seemingly 
hopeless  gulfs.  But  daylight  diminishes  all  terrors,  and  there 
was  hope  with  the  coming  of  light.  A  few  crept  out,  and 
some  even  took  courage  for  breakfast.  The  feeble  notes  dis- 
appeared from  my  husband's  voice,  and  he  began  to  cheer 
me  up.  Then  he  crept  to  our  witty  Mrs.  Greene  (the  dear 
Nettie  of  our  home  days),  to  send  more  sly  thrusts  in  her 
stateroom,  regarding  his  opinion  of  one  who  yielded  to  sea- 
sickness; so  she  was  badgered  into  making  an  appearance. 
While  all  were  contributing  experiences  of  the  awful  night, 
and  commenting  on  their  terrors,  we  were  amazed  to  see  the 
door  of  a  stateroom  open,  and  a  German  family  walk  out  un- 
concernedly from  what  we  all  night  supposed  was  an  unoc- 
cupied room.  The  parents  and  three  children  showed  wide- 
eyed  and  wide-mouthed  wonder,  when  they  heard  of  the 
night.  Through  all  the  din  and  danger  they  had  peacefully 
slept,  and  doubtless  would  have  gone  down,  had  we  been 
shipwrecked,  unconscious  in  their  lethargy  that  death  had 
come  to  them. 

Then  the  white,  exhausted  faces  of  our  officers,  who  had 
slept  in  the  other  cabin,  began  to  appear.  Our  father  Custer 
came  tottering  in,  and  made  his  son  shout  out  with  merri- 
ment, even  in  the  midst  of  all  the  wretched  surroundings, 
when  he  laconically  said  to  his  boy,  that  "  next  time  I  follow 
you  to  Texas,  it  will  be  when  this  pond  is  bridged  over." 


DISTURBED   CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.  179 

Two  of  the  officers  had  a  stateroom  next  the  pilot-house,  and 
begged  the  General  to  bring  me  up  there.  My  husband, 
feeling  so  deeply  the  terrible  night  of  terror  and  entire  wake- 
fulness  for  me,  picked  me  up,  and  carried  me  to  the  upper 
deck,  where  I  was  laid  in  the  berth,  and  restored  to  some 
sort  of  calm  by  an  opportune  glass  of  champagne.  The  wine 
seemed  to  do  my  husband  as  much  good  as  it  did  me,  though 
he  did  not  taste  it;  all  vestige  of  his  prostration  of  the  pre- 
ceding night  disappeared,  and  no  one  escaped  his  comical 
recapitulation  of  how  they  conducted  themselves  when  we 
were  threatened  with  such  peril.  My  terrors  of  the  sea  were 
too  deep-rooted  to  be  set  aside,  and  even  after  we  had  left 
the  hated  Gulf,  and  were  safely  moving  up  the  Mississippi  to 
New  Orleans,  I  felt  no  security.  Nothing  but  the  actual 
planting  of  our  feet  on  terra  fir  ma  restored  my  equanimity. 
Among  the  petitions  of  the  Litany  asking  our  Heavenly 
Father  to  protect  us,  none  since  that  Gulf  storm  has  ever 
been  emphasized  to  me  as  the  prayer  for  preservation  from 
"  perils  by  land  and  by  sea." 

New  Orleans  was  again  a  pleasure  to  us,  and  this  time  we 
knew  just  where  to  go  for  recreation  or  for  our  dinner. 
Nearly  a  year  in  Texas  had  prepared  us  for  gastronomic  feats, 
and  though  the  General  was  by  no  means  a  bon-vivant,  any 
one  so  susceptible  to  surroundings  as  he  would  be  tempted 
by  the  dainty  serving  of  a  French  dinner.  Our  party  had 
dined  too  often  with  Duke  Humphrey  in  the  pine  forests  of 
Louisiana  and  Texas,  not  to  enjoy  every  delicacy  served. 
All  through  the  year  it  had  been  the  custom  to  refer  to  the 
luxuries  of  the  French  market,  and  now,  with  our  purses  a 
little  fuller  than  when  we  were  on  our  way  into  Texas,  we 
had  some  royal  times — that  is,  for  poor  folks. 

We  took  a  steamer  for  Cairo,  and  though  the  novelty  of 
river  travel  was  over,  it  continued  to  be  most  enjoyable.  And 
still  the  staff  found  the  dinner-hour  an  event,  as  they  were 
making  up  for  our  limited  bill  of  fare  the  year  past.  A  very 
good  string  band  "  charmed  the  savage"  while  he  dined.  It 
was  the  custom,  now  obsolete,  to  march  the  white  coated 


180  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

and  aproned  waiters  in  file  from  kitchen  to  dining-room,  each 
carrying  aloft  some  feat  of  the  cook,  and  as  we  had  a  table 
to  ourselves,  there  was  no  lack  of  witty  comments  on  this 
military  serving  of  our  food,  and  smacking  of  lips  over  edibles 
we  had  almost  forgotten  in  our  year  of  semi-civilization. 
The  negroes  were  in  a  state  of  perpetual  guffaws  over  the  re- 
marks made,  sotto  voce,  by  our  merry  table,  and  they  soon 
grew  to  be  skillful  confederates  in  all  the  pranks  practiced  on 
our  father  Custer.  For  instance,  he  slowly  read  over  the  bill  of 
fare,  or  his  sons  read  it,  and  he  chose  the  viands  as  they  were 
repeated  to  him.  Broiled  ham  on  coals  seemed  to  attract  his 
old-fashioned  taste.  Then  my  husband  said,  "  Of  course,  of 
course;  what  a  good  selection! "  and  gave  the  order,  accom- 
panied by  a  significant  wink  to  the  waiter.  Presently  our 
parent,  feeling  an  unnatural  warmth  near  his 'ear,  looked 
around  to  find  his  order  filled  literally,  and  the  ham  sizzling 
on  red  coals.  He  naturally  did  not  know  what  to  do  with 
the  dish,  fearing  to  set  the  boat  on  fire,  and  his  sons  were 
preternaturally  absorbed  in  talking  with  some  one  at  the  end 
of  the  table,  while  the  waiter  slid  back  to  the  kitchen  to  have 
his  laugh  out. 

Our  father  Custer  was  of  the  most  intensely  argumentative 
nature.  He  was  the  strongest  sort  of  politician;  he  is  now, 
and  grows  excited  and  belligerent  over  his  party  affairs  at 
nearly  eighty,  as  if  he  were  a  lad.  He  is  beloved  at  home  in 
Monroe,  but  it  is  considered  too  good  fun  not  to  fling  little 
sneers  at  his  candidate  or  party,  just  to  witness  the  rapidity 
with  which  the  old  gentleman  plunges  into  a  defense.  Michi- 
gan's present  Secretary  of  State,  the  Hon.  Harry  Conant,  my 
husband's,  and  now  my  father's,  faithful  friend,  early  took 
his  cue  from  the  General,  and  loses  no  opportunity  now  to 
get  up  a  wordy  war  with  our  venerable  Democrat,  solely  to 
hear  the  defense.  And  then,  too,  our  father  Custer  considers 
it  time  well  spent  to  "labor  with  that  young  man "  over  the 
error  he  considers  he  has  made  in  the  choice  of  politics.  As 
the  old  gentleman  drives  or  rides  his  son's  war-horse,  Dandy, 
through  the  town,  his  progress  is  slow,  for  some  voice  is  cer- 


DISTURBED  CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.  l8l 

tain  to  be  raised  from  the  sidewalk  calling  out,  "  Well,  father 
Custer,  to-day's  paper  shows  your  side  well  whipped,"  or  a 
like  challenge  to  argument.  Dandy  is  drawn  up  at  once, 
and  the  flies  can  nip  his  sides  at  will,  so  far  as  his  usually 
careful  master  is  conscious  of  him,  as  he  cannot  proceed  until 
the  one  who  has  good-naturedly  agitated  him  has  been 
struggled  over,  to  convince  him  of  the  error  of  his  belief. 

I  was  driving  with  him  in  Monroe  not  long  since,  and  as 
the  train  was  passing  through  the  town,  Dandy  was  driven 
up  to  the  cars.  I  expostulated,  asking  if  he  intended  him  to 
climb  over  or  creep  under;  but  he  persisted,  only  explaining 
that  he  wished  me  to  see  how  gentle  Dandy  could  be.  Sud- 
denly the  conductor  swung  himself  from  the  platform,  and 
called  out  some  bantering  words  about  politics.  Our  father 
was  then  for  driving  Dandy  directly  into  the  train.  He  fairly 
yelled  some  sort  of  imputation  upon  the  other  party,  and 
then  kept  on  talking,  gesticulating  with  his  whip  and  shak- 
ing it  at  the  conductor,  who  laughed  immoderately  as  he  was 
being  carried  out  of  sight.  1  asked  what  was  the  matter — 
did  he  have  any  grudge  or  hatred  for  the  man  ?  "  Oh,  no, 
daughter,  he's  a  good  enough  fellow,  only  he's  an  onery 
scamp  of  a  Republican." 

His  sons  never  lost  a  chance  to  enter  into  discussion  with 
him.  I  have  known  the  General  to  "bone  up,"  as  his  West 
Point  phrase  expressed  it,  on  the  smallest  details  of  some 
question  at  issue  in  the  Republican  party,  for  no  other  rea- 
son than  to  incite  his  parent  to  a  defense.  The  discussion 
was  so  earnest,  that  even  I  would  be  deceived  into  thinking 
it  something  my  husband  was  all  on  fire  about.  But  the 
older  man  was  never  rasped  or  badgered  into  anger.  He 
worked  and  struggled  with  his  boy,  and  mourned  that  he 
should  have  a  son  who  had  so  far  strayed  from  the  truth  as 
he  understood  it.  The  General  argued  as  vehemently  as  his 
father,  and  never  undeceived  him  for  days,  but  simply  let  the 
old  gentleman  think  how  misguided  he  really  was.  It  served 
to  pass  many  an  hour  of  slow  travel  up  the  river.  Tom  con- 
nived with  the  General  to  deprive  their  father  temporarily  of 


1 82  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

his  dinner.  When  the  plate  was  well  prepared,  as  was  the  old- 
time  custom,  the  potato  and  vegetables  seasoned,  the  meat 
cut,  it  was  the  signal  for  my  husband  to  hurl  a  bomb  of  in- 
flammable information  at  the  whitening  hairs  of  his  parent. 
The  old  man  would  rather  argue  than  eat,  and,  laying  down 
his  knife  and  fork,  he  fell  to  the  discussion  as  eagerly  as  if 
he  had  not  been  hungry.  As  the  argument  grew  energetic 
and  more  absorbing,  Tom  slipped  away  the  father's  plate,  ate 
all  the  nicely  prepared  food,  and  returned  it  empty  to  its 
place.  Then  the  General  tapered  off  his  aggravating  threats, 
and  said,  "Well,  come,  come,  come,  father,  why  don't  you 
eat  your  dinner  ?  "  Father  Custer's  blank  face  at  the  sight  of 
the  empty  plate  was  a  mirth-provoking  sight  to  his  offspring, 
and  they  took  good  care  to  tip  the  waiter  and  order  a  warm 
dinner  for  the  still  arguing  man.  In  a  quaint  letter,  a  por- 
tion of  which  I  give  below,  father  Custer  tells  how,  early  in 
life,  he  began  to  teach  his  boys  politics. 

"  TECUMSEH,  Mich.,  Feb.  3,  1887. 

"  MY  DEAR  DAUGHTER  ELIZABETH:  I  received  your  letter,  re- 
questing me  to  tell  you  something  of  our  trip  up  the  Mississippi 
with  my  dear  boys,  Autie  and  Tommy.  Well,  as  I  was  always  a 
boy  with  my  boys,  I  will  try  and  tell  you  of  some  of  our  jokes 
and  tricks  on  each  other.  I  want  to  tell  you  also  of  a  little  in- 
cident when  Autie  was  about  four  years  old.  He  had  to  have  a 
tooth  drawn,  and  he  was  very  much  afraid  of  blood.  When  I 
took  him  to  the  doctor  to  have  the  tooth  pulled,  it  was  in  the 
night,  and  I  told  him  if  it  bled  well  it  would  get  well  right  away, 
and  he  must  be  a  good  soldier.  When  he  got  to  the  doctor  he 
took  his  seat,  and  the  pulling  began.  The  forceps  slipped  off, 
and  he  had  to  make  a  second  trial.  He  pulled  it  out,  and  Autie 
never  even  scrunched.  Going  home,  I  led  him  by  the  arm.  He 
jumped  and  skipped,  and  said,  '  Father,  you  and  me  can  whip  all 
the  Whigs  in  Michigan.'  I  thought  that  was  saying  a  good  deal, 
but  I  did  not  contradict  him. 

"  When  we  were  in  Texas,  I  was  at  Autie's  headquarters  one 
day,  and  something  came  up,  I've  forgotten  what  it  was,  but  I 
said  I  would  bet  that  it  was  not  so,  and  he  said,  '  What  will  you 


DISTURBED  CONDITION   OF  TEXAS.  183 

bet?'  I  said,  '  I'll  bet  my  trunk.'  I  have  forgotten  the  amount 
he  put  up  against  it,  but  according  to  the  rule  of  betting  he  won 
my  trunk.  I  thought  that  was  the  end  of  it,  as  I  took  it  just  as  a 
joke,  and  I  remained  there  with  him  for  some  time.  To  my  great 
astonishment,  here  came  an  orderly  with  the  trunk  on  his  shoul- 
der, and  set  it  down  before  Autie.  Well,  I  hardly  knew  what  to 
think.  I  hadn't  been  there  long,  and  didn't  know  camp  ways  very 
well.  I  had  always  understood  that  the  soldiers  were  a  pretty 
rough  set  of  customers,  and  I  wanted  to  know  how  to  try  and 
take  care  of  myself,  so  I  thought  I  would  go  up  to  my  tent  and 
see  what  had  become  of  my  goods  and  chattels.  When  I  got 
there,  all  my  things  were  on  my  bed.  Tom  had  taken  them  out, 
and  he  had  not  been  very  particular  in  getting  them  out,  so  they 
were  scattered  helter-skelter,  for  I  suppose  he  was  hurried  and 
thought  I  would  catch  him  at  it.  I  began  to  think  that  I  would 
have  to  hunt  quarters  in  some  other  direction. 

"  The  next  trick  Autie  played  me  was  on  account  of  his  know- 
ing that  I  was  very  anxious  to  see  an  alligator.  He  was  out  with 
his  gun  one  day,  and  I  heard  him  shoot,  and  when  he  came  up  to 
his  tent  I  asked  him  what  he  had  been  firing  at.  He  said,  an  alli- 
gator, so  I  started  off  to  see  the  animal,  and  when  I  found  it, 
what  do  you  think  it  was,  but  an  old  Government  mule  that  had 
died  because  it  was  played  out!  Well,  he  had  a  hearty  laugh 
over  that  trick. 

"  Then,  my  daughter,  I  was  going  over  my  mess  bill  and  some 
of  my  accounts  with  Tommy,  and  to  my  great  astonishment  I 
found  I  was  out  a  hundred  dollars.  I  could  not  see  how  I 
could  have  made  such  a  mistake,  but  I  just  kept  this  to  myself. 
I  didn't  say  a  word  about  it  until  Autie  and  Tom  could  not  stand 
it  any  longer,  so  Autie  asked  me  one  day  about  my  money  mat- 
ters. I  told  him  I  was  out  a  hundred  dollars,  and  I  could  not 
understand  it.  Then  he  just  told  me  that  Tommy  had  hooked 
that  sum  from  me  while  he  was  pretending  to  help  me  straighten 
up.  I  went  for  Tom,  and  got  my  stolen  money  back. 

"  The  next  outrage  on  me  was  about  the  mess  bill.  There  was 
you,  Libbie,  Autie,  Tom,  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Greene,  Major  and 
Mrs.  Lyon,  and  we  divided  up  the  amount  spent  each  month,  and 
all  took  turns  running  the  mess.  Somehow  or  other,  my  bill  was 
pretty  big  when  Autie  and  Tom  had  the  mess.  I  just  rebelled 


184  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

against  such  extravagance,  and  rather  than  surfer  myself  to  be 
robbed,  I  threatened  to  go  and  mess  with  the  wagon-master  or 
some  other  honest  soldier,  who  wouldn't  cheat  an  old  man. 
That  tickled  the  boys;  it  was  just  what  they  were  aiming  at.  I 
wouldn't  pay,  so  what  do  you  think  Tommy  did,  but  borrow  the 
amount  of  me  to  buy  supplies,  and  when  settling  time  came  for 
mess  bills,  they  said  we  came  out  about  even  in  money  matters! 
"  And  so  they  were  all  the  time  playing  tricks  on  me,  and  it 
pleased  them  so  much  to  get  off  a  good  joke;  besides,  they  knew 
I  was  just  as  good  a  boy  with  them  as  they  were. 

"  Your  affectionate  father, 

"  E.  H.  CUSTER." 


CHAPTER  X. 

GENERAL  CUSTER    PARTS  WITH     HIS    STAFF    AT   CAIRO  AND 
DETROIT. 

ALL  the  smaller  schemes  to  tease  our  father  Custer  gave 
way  to  a  grand  one,  concocted  in  the  busy  brains  of  his  boys, 
to  rob  their  parent.  While  the  patriarch  sat  in  the  cabin, 
reading  aloud  to  himself — as  is  still  his  custom — what  he  con- 
sidered the  soul-convincing  editorial  columns  of  a  favorite 
paper,  his  progeny  were  in  some  sheltered  corner  of  the 
guards,  plotting  the  discomfiture  of  their  father.  The  plans 
were  well  laid ;  but  the  General  was  obliged  to  give  as  much 
time  to  it,  in  a  way,  as  when  projecting  a  raid,  for  he  knew 
he  had  to  encounter  a  wily  foe  who  was  always  on  guard.  The 
father,  early  in  their  childhood,  playing  all  sorts  of  tricks  on 
his  boys,  was  on  the  alert  whenever  he  was  with  them,  to 
parry  a  return  thrust.  I  believe  several  attempts  had  been 
made  to  take  the  old  gentleman's  money,  but  he  was  too 
wary.  They  knew  that  he  had  sewed  some  bills  in  his  waist- 
coat, and  that  his  steamer  ticket  and  other  money  were  in 
his  purse.  These  he  carefully  placed  under  his  pillow  at 
night.  He  continues  in  his  letter:  "  Tommy  and  I  had  a 
stateroom  together,  and  on  one  night  in  particular,  all  the 
folks  had  gone  to  bed  in  the  cabin,  and  Tom  was  hurrying 
me  to  go  to  bed.  I  was  not  sleepy,  and  did  not  want  to  turn 
in,  but  he  hung  round  so,  that  at  last  I  did  go  to  our  state- 
room. He  took  the  upper  berth.  I  put  my  vest  under  the 
pillow,  and  was  pulling  off  my  boots,  when  I  felt  sure  I  saw 
something  going  out  over  the  transom.  I  looked  under  the 
pillow,  and  my  vest  was  gone.  Then  I  waked  Tommy,  who 
was  snoring  already.  I  told  him  both  my  purse  and  vest 
were  gone,  and,  as  the  saying  is,  I  '  smelt  the  rat.'  I  opened 

185 


1 86  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

the  door,  and  felt  sure  that  Autie  had  arranged  to  snatch  the 
vest  and  purse  when  it  was  thrown  out.  I  ran  out  in  the 
cabin  to  his  stateroom,  but  he  had  the  start  of  me,  and  was 
locked  in.  I  did  not  know  for  sure  which  was  his  room,  so 
I  hit  and  I  thundered  at  his  door.  The  people  stuck  their 
heads  out  of  their  staterooms,  and  over  the  transom  came  a 
glass  of  water.  So  I,  being  rather  wet,  concluded  I  would 
give  it  up  till  the  next  morning.  And  what  do  you  think 
those  scamps  did  ?  Tom,  though  I  gave  it  to  him  well, wouldn't 
own  up  to  a  thing,  and  just  said  '  it  was  too  bad  such  rob- 
beries went  on  in  a  ship  like  that;'  he  was  very  sorry  for  me, 
and  alluded  to  the  fact  that  the  door  being  unlocked  was 
proof  that  the  thief  had  a  skeleton  key,  and  all  that  non- 
sense. Next  morning  Autie  met  me,  and  asked  what  on 
earth  I  had  been  about  the  night  before.  Such  a  fracas  !  all 
the  people  had  come  out  to  look  up  the  matter,  and  there  I 
was  pounding  at  a  young  lady's  door,  a  friend  of  Libbie's, 
and  a  girl  I  liked  (indeed,  I  had  taken  quite  a  shine  to  her). 
They  made  out — those  shameless  rogues,  and  very  solemn 
Autie  was  about  it,  too — that  it  was  not  a  very  fine  thing  for 
my  reputation  to  be  pounding  on  a  young  lady's  door  late  at 
night,  frightening  her  half  to  death,  and  obliging  her  to  de- 
fend herself  with  a  pitcher  of  water.  She  thought  I  had 
been  trying  to  break  in  her  door,  and  I  had  better  go  to  her 
at  once  and  apologize,  as  the  whole  party  were  being  com- 
promised by  such  scandal.  They  failed  there;  for  I  knew  I 
was  not  at  her  door,  and  I  knew  who  it  was  that  threw  the 
water  on  me.  I  was  bound  to  try  and  get  even  with  them, 
so  one  morning,  while  they  were  all  at  breakfast,  I  went  to 
Autie's  stateroom;  Eliza  was  making  up  the  bed.  I  looked 
for  Autie's  pocket-book,  and  found  it  under  the  pillow.  I 
kept  out  of  the  way,  and  did  not  come  near  them  for  some 
days;  but  they  got  desperate,  and  were  determined  to  beat 
me;  so  they  made  it  up  that  Tommy  was  to  get  round  me, 
seize  me  by  my  arms  at  the  back,  and  Autie  go  through  my 
pockets.  Well,  they  left  me  without  a  dime,  and  I  had  to 
travel  without  paying,  and  those  outlaws  of  boys  got  the  clerk 


GEN.  CUSTER   PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.        l8/ 

to  come  to  me  and  demand  my  ticket.  I  told  him  I  had  none, 
that  I  had  been  robbed.  He  said  he  was  sorry,  but  I  would 
have  to  pay  over  again,  as  some  one  who  stole  the  ticket 
would  be  likely  to  use  it.  I  tried  to  tell  him  I  would  make  it 
right  before  I  left  the  boat,  but  I  hadn't  a  penny  then.  Well, 
daughter,  I  came  out  best  at  the  last,  for  Autie,  having  really 
all  the  money,  though  he  wouldn't  own  up  to  it,  had  all  the 
bills  to  pay,  and  when  I  got  home  I  was  so  much  the  gainer, 
for  it  did  not  cost  me  anything  from  the  time  I  left  the  boat, 
either,  till  we  got  home,  and  then  Autie  gave  me  up  my 
pocket-book  with  all  the  money,  and  we  all  had  a  good 
langh,  while  the  boys  told  their  mother  of  the  pranks  they 
had  played  on  me." 

My  father's  story  ceases  without  doing  justice  to  himself; 
for  the  cunning  manner  in  which  he  circumvented  those 
mischievous  fellows  I  remember,  and  it  seems  my  husband 
had  given  a  full  account  to  our  friend  the  Hon.  Harry  Co- 
nant.  He  writes  to  me,  what  is  very  true,  that  "  it  seems 
one  must  know  the  quaint  and  brave  old  man,  to  appreciate 
how  exquisitely  funny  the  incident,  as  told  by  the  General, 
really  was.  The  third  day  after  the  robbery  the  General  and 
Tom,  thinking  their  father  engaged  at  a  remote  part  of  the 
boat,  while  talking  over  their  escapade  incautiously  exhibited 
the  pocket-book.  Suddenly  the  hand  that  held  it  was  seized 
in  the  strong  grasp  of  the  wronged  father,  who,  lustily  call- 
ing for  aid,  assured  the  passengers  that  were  thronging  up 
(and,  being  strangers,  knew  nothing  of  the  relationship  of 
the  parties)  that  this  purse  was  his,  and  that  he  had  been 
robbed  by  these  two  scoundrels,  and  if  they  would  assist  in 
securing  their  arrest  and  restoring  the  purse,  he  would  prove 
all  he  said.  Seeing  the  crowd  hesitate,  he  called  out:  '  For 
shame  !  stand  there,  cowards,  will  you,  and  see  an  old  man 
robbed  ? '  It  was  enough.  The  spectators  rushed  in,  and 
the  General  was  outwitted  by  his  artful  parent  and  obliged 
to  explain  the  situation.  But  the  consequent  restoration  of 
his  property  did  not  give  him  half  the  satisfaction  that  it  did 
to  turn  the  tables  on  the  boys.  Though  they  never  acknowl- 


"STAND  THERE,    COWARDS,   WILL  YOU,   AND   SEE  AN   OLD 

MAN   ROBBED  ?  " 

188 


GEN.  CUSTE'R   PARTS   WITH   HIS   STAFF.        189 

edged  this  robbery  to  their  father,  none  were  so  proud  of  his 
victory  as  Tom  and  the  General." 

1  must  not  leave  to  the  imagination  of  the  literal-minded 
people  who  may  chance  to  read,  the  suspicion  that  my  hus- 
band and  Tom  ever  made  their  father  in  the  least  unhappy 
by  their  incessant  joking.  He  met  them  half-way  always, 
and  I  never  knew  them  lack  in  reverence  for  his  snowy  head. 
He  was  wont  to  speak  of  his  Texas  life  with  his  sons  as  his 
happiest  year  for  many  preceding,  and  used  to  say  that,  were 
it  not  for  our  mother's  constantly  increasing  feebleness,  he 
would  go  out  to  them  in  Kansas. 

When  he  reached  his  own  ground,  he  made  Tom  and  the 
General  pay  for  some  of  their  plots  and  plans  to  render  him 
uncomfortable,  by  coming  to  the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  roar- 
ing out  (and  he  had  a  stentorian  voice)  that  they  had  better 
be  getting  up,  as  it  was  late.  Father  Custer  thought  6  o'clock 
A.  M.  was  late.  His  sons  differed.  As  soon  as  they  found 
the  clamor  was  to  continue,  assisted  by  the  dogs,  which  he 
had  released  from  the  stable,  leaping  up-stairs  and  springing 
on  our  beds  in  excitement,  they  went  to  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  and  shouted  out  for  everything  that  the  traveler  calls 
for  in  a  hotel — hot  water,  boot- black,  cocktail,  barber,  morn- 
ing paper,  and  none  of  thesa  being  forthcoming  in  the  simple 
home,  they  vociferated  in  what  the  outsider  might  have 
thought  angry  voices,  "  What  sort  of  hotel  do  you  keep,  any 
way  ?  " 

Father  Custer  had  an  answer  for  every  question,  and  only 
by  talking  so  fast  and  loud  that  they  talked  him  down  did  they 
get  the  better  of  him.  Our  mother  Custer  almost  invariably 
sided  with  her  boys.  It  made  no  sort  of  difference  if  father 
Custer  stood  alone,  he  never  seemed  to  expect  a  champion. 
He  did  seem  to  think  that  she  was  carrying  her  views  to  an 
advanced  point,  when  she  endeavored  to  decline  a  new  cur 
that  he  had  introduced  into  the  house,  on  the  strength  of 
its  having  "no  pedigree."  Her  sons  talked  dog  to  her  so 
much  that  one  would  be  very  apt  to  be  educated  up  to  the 
demand  for  an  authenticated  grandfather.  Besides,  the 


TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 


"Towsers"  and  "  Rovers"  and  all  that  sort  of  mongrels,  to 
which  she  had  patiently  submitted  in  all  the  childhood  of 
her  boys  and  their  boyish  father,  entitled  her  to  some  choice 
in  after  years. 

At  Cairo  our  partings  began,  for  there  some  of  the  staff 
left  us  for  their  homes.  We  dreaded  to  give  them  up.  Our 
harmonious  life,  and  the  friendships  welded  by  the  sharing 
of  hardships  and  dangers,  made  us  feel  that  it  would  be  well 
if,  having  tested  one  another,  we  might  go  on  in  our  future 
together.  At  Detroit  the  rest  of  our  military  family  disband- 
ed. How  the  General  regretted  them  !  The  men,  scarce 
more  than  boys  even  then,  had  responded  to  every  call  to 
charge  in  his  Michigan  brigade,  and  afterward  in  the  Third 
Cavalry  Division.  Some,  wounded  almost  to  death,  had 
been  carried  from  his  side  on  the  battle-field,  as  he  feared, 
forever,  and  had  returned  with  wounds  still  unhealed.  One 
of  those  valiant  men  has  just  died,  suffering  all  these  twenty- 
three  years  from  his  wound  ;  but  in  writing,  speaking  in 
public  when  he  could,  talking  to  those  who  surrounded  him 
when  he  was  too  weak  to  do  more,  one  name  ran  through 
his  whole  anguished  life,  one  hero  hallowed  his  days,  and 
that  was  his  "boy-general."  Still  another  of  our  military 
family,  invalided  by  his  eleven  months'  confinement  in  Libby 
Prison,  set  his  wan,  white  face  toward  the  uncertain  future 
before  him,  and  began  his  bread-winning,  his  soul  undaunt- 
ed by  his  disabled  body.  Another  —  oh,  what  a  brave  boy  he 
was  !  —  took  my  husband's  proffered  aid,  and  received  an  ap- 
pointment in  the  regular  army.  He  carried  always,  does  now, 
a  shattered  arm,  torn  by  a  bullet  while  he  was  riding  beside 
General  Custer  in  Virginia.  That  did  not  keep  him  from 
giving  his  splendid  energy,  his  best  and  truest  patriotism,  to 
his  country  down  in  Texas  even  after  the  war,  for  he  rode 
on  long,  exhausting  campaigns  after  the  Indians,  his  wound 
bleeding,  his  life  sapped,  his  vitality  slipping  away  with  the 
pain  that  never  left  him  day  or  night.  That  summer  when 
we  were  at  home  in  Monroe,  the  General  sent  for  him  to 
come  to  us,  and  get  his  share  of  the  pretty  girls  that  Tom 


GEN.  CUSTER   PARTS   WITH   HIS   STAFF.        191 

and  the  Michigan  staff,  who  lived  near  us,  were  appropriat- 
ing. The  handsome,  dark-haired  fellow  carried  off  the  fa- 
vors ;  for  though  the  others  had  been  wounded — Tom  even 
then  bearing  the  scarlet  spot  on  his  cheek  where  the  bullet 
had  penetrated — the  last  comer  won,  for  he  still  wore  his  arm 
in  a  sling.  The  bewitching  girls  had  before  them  the  evi- 
dence of  his  valor,  and  into  what  a  garden  he  stepped  !  He 
was  a  modest  fellow,  and  would  not  demand  too  much  pity, 
but  made  light  of  his  wound,  as  is  the  custom  of  soldiers, 
who,  dreading  effeminacy,  carry  the  matter  too  far,  and  ig- 
nore what  ought  not  to  be  looked  upon  slightingly.  One 
day  he  appeared  without  his  sling,  and  a  careless  girl,  danc- 
ing with  him,  grasped  the  arm  in  the  forgetfulness  of  glee. 
The  waves  of  torture  that  swept  over  the  young  hero's  face, 
the  alarm  and  pity  of  the  girl,  the  instant  biting  of  the  lip 
and  quick  smile  of  the  man,  dreading  more  to  grieve  the 
pretty  creature  by  him  than  to  endure  the  physical  agony — 
oh,  how  proud  the  General  was  of  him,  and  I  think  he  felt 
badly  that  a  soldier  cannot  yield  to  impulse,  and  enfold  his 
comrade  in  his  arms,  as  is  our  woman's  sweet  privilege  with 
one  another. 

Proudly  the  General  followed  the  career  of  those  young 
fellows  who  had  been  so  near  him  in  his  war-life.  Of  all 
those  in  whom  he  continued  always  to  retain  an  interest, 
keeping  up  in  some  instances  a  desultory  correspondence, 
the  most  amazing  evolution  was  that  of  the  provost-marshal 
into  a  Methodist  minister.  Whether  he  was  at  heart  a  stern, 
unrelenting  character,  is  a  question  I  doubted,  for  he  never 
could  have  developed  into  a  clergyman.  But  he  had  the 
strangest,  most  implacable  face,  when  sent  on  his  thankless 
duty  by  his  commanding  officer.  He  it  was  who  conducted 
the  ceremonies  that  one  awful  day  in  Louisiana,  when  the 
execution  and  pardon  took  place.  I  remember  the  General's 
amazement  jvlien  he  received  the  letter  in  which  the  an- 
nouncement of  the  new  life-work  was  made.  It  took  us  both 
some  time  to  realize  how  he  would  set  about  evangelizing. 
It  was  difficult  to  imagine  him  leading  any  one  to  the  throne 


IQ2  TENTING   ON    THE    PLAINS. 

of  grace,  except  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  with  a  military 
band  playing  the  Dead  March  in  Saul.  I  know  how  pleased 
my  husband  was,  though,  how  proud  and  glad  to  know  that 
a  splendid,  brave  soldier  had  given  his  talents,  his  courage — 
and  oh,  what  courage  for  a  man  of  the  world  to  come  out 
in  youth  on  the  side  of  one  mighty  Captain  ! — and  taken  up 
the  life  of  poverty,  self-denial,  and  something  else  that  the 
General  also  felt  a  deprivation,  the  roving  life  that  deprives 
a  Methodist  minister  of  the  blessings  of  a  permanent  home. 

The  delightful  letters  we  used  to  get  from  our  military  fam- 
ily when  any  epoch  occurred  in  their  lives,  like  the  choice  of 
a  profession  or  business  (for  most  of  them  went  back  to  civil 
life),  their  marriage,  the  birth  of  a  son -all  gave  my  husband 
genuine  pleasure  ;  and  when  their  sorrows  came  he  turned 
to  me  to  write  the  letter — a  heart-letter,  which  was  his  in  all 
but  the  manipulation  of  the  pen.  His  personal  influence  he 
gave,  time  and  time  again,  when  it  was  needed  in  their 
lives,  and,  best  of  all  in  my  eyes,  had  patience  with  those 
who  had  a  larger  sowing  of  the  wild-oat  crop,  which  is  the 
agricultural  feature  in  the  early  life  of  most  men. 

Since  I  seek  to  make  my  story  of  others,  I  take  the  priv- 
ilege of  speaking  of  a  class  of  heroes  that  I  now  seldom  hear 
mentioned,  and  over  whom,  in  instances  of  my  husband's 
personal  friends,  we  have  grieved  together.  It  is  to  those 
who,  like  his  young  staff-officer,  bear  unhealed  and  painful 
wounds  to  their  life's  end  that  I  wish  to  beg  our  people  to 
give  thought.  We  felt  it  rather  a  blessing,  in  one  way,  when 
a  man  was  visibly  maimed  ;  for  if  a  leg  or  an  arm  is  gone,  the 
empty  sleeve  or  the  halting  gait  keeps  his  country  from  for- 
getting that  he  has  braved  everything  to  protect  her.  The 
men  we  sorrowed  for  were  those  who  suffered  silently  ;  and 
there  are  more,  North  and  South,  than  anyone  dreams  of, 
scattered  all  over  our  now  fair  and  prosperous  land.  Some- 
times, after  they  die,  it  transpires  that  at  the  approach  of 
every  storm  they  have  been  obliged  to  stop  work,  enter  into 
the  seclusion  of  their  rooms,  and  endure  the  racking,  tortur- 
ing pain,  that  began  on  the  battle-field  so  long  ago.  If  any- 


GEN.  CUSTER   PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.        193 

one  finds  this  out  in  their  lifetime,  it  is  usually  by  accident ; 
and  when  asked  why  they  suffer  without  claiming  the  sym- 
pathy that  does  help  us  all,  they  sometimes  reply  that  the 
war  is  too  far  back  to  tax  anyone's  memory  or  sympathy  now. 
Oftener,  they  attempt  to  ignore  what  they  endure,  and 
change  the  subject  instantly.  People  would  be  surprised  to 
know  how  many  in  the  community,  whom  they  daily  touch 
in  the  jostle  of  life,  are  silent  sufferers  from  wounds  or  incur- 
able disease  contracted  during  the  war  for  the  Union.  The 
monuments,  tablets,  memorials  which  are  strewn  with  flowers 
and  bathed  with  grateful  tears,  have  often  tribute  that  should 
be  partly  given  to  the  double  hero  who  bears  on  his  bruised 
and  broken  body  the  torture  of  daily  sacrifice  for  his  country. 
People,  even  if  they  know,  forget  the  look,  the  word  of  ac- 
knowledgment, that  is  due  the  maimed  patriot. 

I  recall  the  chagrin  I  felt  on  the  Plains  one  day,  when  one 
of  our  Seventh  Cavalry  officers,  with  whom  we  had  long  been 
intimately  associated — one  whom  our  people  called  "Fresh 
Smith,"  or  "  Smithie,"  for  short — came  to  his  wife  to  get 
her  to  put  on  his  coat.  I  said  something  in  bantering  tones 
of  his  Plains  life  making  him  look  on  his  wife  as  the  Indian 
looks  upon  the  squaw,  and  tried  to  rouse  her  to  rebellion. 
There  was  a  small  blaze,  a  sudden  scintillation  from  a  pair  of 
feminine  eyes,  that  warned  me  of  wrath  to  come.  The  cap- 
tain accepted  my  banter,  threw  himself  into  the  saddle, 
laughed  back  the  advantage  of  this  new  order  of  things, 
where  a  man  had  a  combination,  in  his  wife,  of  servant  and 
companion,  and  tore  out  of  sight,  leaving  me  to  settle  ac- 
counts with  the  flushed  madame.  She  told  me,  what  I  never 
knew,  and  perhaps  might  not  even  now,  but  for  the  outburst 
of  the  moment,  that  in  the  war  "Smithie"  had  received  a 
wound  that  shattered  his  shoulder,  and  though  his  arm  was 
narrowly  saved  from  amputation,  he  never  raised  it  again, 
except  a  few  inches.  As  for  putting  on  his  coat,  it  was  an 
impossibility. 

.  One  day  in  New  York  my  husband  and  I  were  paying  our 
usual  homage  to  the  shop  windows  and  to  the  beautiful 


194  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

women  we  passed,  when  he  suddenly  seized  my  arm  and  said, 
"There's  Kiddoo  !  Let's  catch  up  with  him."  I  was  skip- 
ped over  gutters,  and  sped  over  pavements,  the  General  un- 
conscious that  such  a  gait  is  not  the  usual  movement  of  the 
New  Yorker,  until  we  came  up  panting  each  side  of  a  tall, 
fine-looking  man,  apparently  a  specimen  of  physical  perfec- 
tion. The  look  of  longing  that  he  gave  us  as  we  ran  up,  flushed 
and  happy,  startled  me,  and  I  could  scarcely  wait  until  we 
separated,  to  know  the  meaning.  It  was  this  :  General  Jo- 
seph B.  Kiddoo,  shot  in  the  leg  during  the  war,  had  still  the 
open  wound,  from  which  he  endured  daily  pain  and  nightly 
torture,  for  he  got  only  fragmentary  sleep.  To  heal  the  hurt 
was  to  end  his  life,  the  surgeons  said.  When  at  last  I  heard 
he  had  been  given  release  and  slept  the  blessed  sleep,  what 
word  of  sorrow  could  be  framed  ? 

In  the  case  of  another  friend,  with  whom  we  were  stay- 
ing in  Tennessee,  from  whom  my  husband  and  I  extracted 
the  information  by  dint  of  questions  and  sympathy,  when, 
late  one  night,  we  sat  about  the  open  fire,  and  were  warmed 
into  confidence  by  its  friendly  glow,  we  found  that  no  single 
night  for  the  twelve  years  after  the  war  had  such  a  boon  as 
uninterrupted  sleep  been  known  to  him.  A  body  racked  by 
pain  was  paying  daily  its  loyal,  uncomplaining  tribute  to  his 
country.  Few  were  aware  that  he  had  unremitting  suffering 
as  his  constant  companion.  I  remember  that  my  husband 
urged  him  to  marry,  and  get  some  good  out  of  life  and  from 
the  sympathy  that  wells  perpetually  in  a  tender  woman's 
heart.  But  he  denied  himself  the  blessing  of  such  compan- 
ionship, from  unselfish  motives,  declaring  he  could  not  ask 
a  woman  to  link  her  fate  with  such  a  broken  life  as  his. 
When  we  left  his  fireside,  my  husband  counted  him  a  hero 
of  such  rare  mettle  that  few  in  his  experience  could  equal  him, 
and  years  afterward,  when  we  sometimes  read  his  name  in 

print,  he  said,  "  Poor !  I  wonder  if  there's  any  let-up  for 

the  brave  fellow." 

Our  home-coming  was  a  great  pleasure  to  us  and  to  our 
two  families.  My  own  father  was  proud  of  the  General's  ad- 


GEN.  CUSTER   PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.       195 

ministration  of  civil  as  well  as  military  affairs  in  Texas,  and 
enjoyed  the  congratulatory  letter  of  Governor  Hamilton 
deeply.  The  temptations  to  induce  General  Custer  to  leave 
the  service  and  enter  civil  life  began  at  once,  and  were  many 
and  varied.  He  had  not  been  subjected  to  such  allurements 
the  year  after  the  war,  when  the  country  was  offering  posts 
of  honor  to  returned  soldiers,  but  this  summer  of  our  return 
from  Texas,  all  sorts  of  suggestions  were  made.  Business 
propositions,  with  enticing  pictures  of  great  wealth,  came  to 
him.  He  never  cared  for  money  for  money's  sake.  No  one 
that  does,  ever  lets  it  slip  through  his  fingers  as  he  did.  Still, 
his  heart  was  set  upon  plans  for  his  mother  and  father,  and 
for  his  brothers'  future,  and  I  can  scarcely  see  now  how  a  man 
of  twenty-five  could  have  turned  his  back  upon  such  alluring 
schemes  for  wealth  as  were  held  out  to  him.  It  was  at  that 
time  much  more  customary  than  now,  even,  to  establish  cor- 
porations with  an  officer's  name  at  the  head  who  was  known 
to  have  come  through  the  war  with  irreproachable  honor, 
proved  possibly  as  much  by  his  being  as  poor  when  he  came 
out  of  service  as  when  he  went  in,  as  by  his  conduct  in  bat- 
tle. The  country  was  so  unsettled  by  the  four  years  of  strife 
that  it  was  like  beginning  all  over  again,  when  old  companies 
were  started  anew.  Confidence  had  to  be  struggled  for,  and 
names  of  prominent  men  as  associate  partners  or  presidents 
were  sought  for  persistently. 

Politics  offered  another  form  of  temptation.  The  people 
demanded  for  their  representatives  the  soldiers  under  whom 
they  had  served,  preferring  to  follow  the  same  leaders  in  the 
political  field  that  had  led  them  in  battle.  The  old  soldiers, 
and  civilians  also,  talked  openly  of  General  Custer  for  Con- 
gressman or  Governor.  It  was  a  summer  of  excitement  and 
uncertainty.  How  could  it  be  otherwise  to  a  boy  who,  five 
brief  years  before,  was  a  beardless  youth  with  no  apparent 
future  before  him  ?  I  was  too  much  of  a  girl  to  realize  what 
a  summer  it  was — indeed,  we  had  little  chance,  so  fast  did 
one  proposition  for  our  future  follow  upon  the  other.  When 
the  General  was  offered  the  appointment  of  foreign  Minister, 


196  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

I  kept  silence  as  best  I  could,  but  it  was  desperately  hard 
work.  Honors,  according  to  old  saws,  "were  empty,"  but 
in  that  hey-day  time  they  looked  very  different  to  me. 
I  was  inwardly  very  proud,  and  if  I  concealed  the  fact  be- 
cause my  husband  expressed  such  horror  of  inflated  people, 
it  was  only  after  violent  effort. 

Among  the  first  propositions  was  one  for  the  General  to 
take  temporary  service  with  Mexico.  This  scheme  found  no 
favor  with  me.  It  meant  more  fighting  and  further  danger 
for  my  husband,  and  anxiety  and  separation  for  me.  Be- 
sides, Texas  association  with  Mexicans  made  me  think  their 
soldiery  treacherous  and  unreliable.  But  even  in  the  midst 
of  the  suspense  pending  the  decision  I  was  not  insensible  to 
this  new  honor  that  was  offered. 

Carvajal,  who  was  then  at  the  head  of  the  Juarez  military 
government,  offered  the  post  of  Adjutant-General  of  Mexico 
to  General  Custer.  The  money  inducements  were,  to  give 
twice  the  salary  in  gold  that  a  major-general  in  our  army  re- 
ceives. As  his  salary  had  come  down  from  a  major-gener- 
al's pay  of  $8,000  to  $2,000,  this  might  have  been  a  tempta- 
tion surely.  There  was  a  stipulation  that  one  or  two  thou- 
sand men  should  be  raised  in  the  United  States,  any  debts 
assumed  in  organizing  this  force  to  be  paid  by  the  Mexican 
Liberal  Government.  Senor  Romero,  the  Mexican  Minister, 
did  what  he  could  to  further  the  application  of  Carvajal,  and 
General  Grant  wrote  his  approval  of  General  Custer's  ac- 
ceptance, in  a  letter  in  which  he  speaks  of  my  husband  in 
unusually  flattering  terms,  as  one  "who  rendered  such  dis- 
tinguished service  as  a  cavalry  officer  during  the  war,"  add- 
ing, "  There  was  no  officer  in  that  branch  of  the  service  who 
had  the  confidence  of  General  Sheridan  to  a  greater  degree 
than  General  Custer,  and  there  is  no  officer  in  whose  judg- 
ment I  have  greater  faith  than  in  Sheridan's.  Please  under- 
stand, then,  that  I  mean  to  endorse  General  Custer  in  a  high 
degree." 

The  stagnation  of  peace  was  being  felt  by  those  who 
had  lived  a  breathless  four  years  at  the  front.  However 


GEN.  CUSTER    PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.       197 

much  they  might  rejoice  that  carnage  had  ceased  and  no 
more  broken  hearts  need  be  dreaded,  it  was  very  hard  to 
quiet  themselves  into  a  life  of  inaction.  No  wonder  our  offi- 
cers went  to  the  Khedive  for  service  !  no  wonder  this  prom- 
ise of  active  duty  was  an  inviting  prospect  for  my  husband  ! 
It  took  a  long  time  for  civilians,  even,  to  tone  themselves 
down  to  the  jog-trot  of  peace. 

Everything  looked,  at  that  time,  as  if  there  was  success 
awaiting  any  soldier  who  was  resolute  enough  to  lead  troops 
against  one  they  considered  an  invader.  Nothing  nerves  a 
soldier's  arm  like  the  wrong  felt  at  the  presence  of  foreigners 
on  their  own  ground,  and  the  prospect  of  destruction  of 
their  homes.  Maximilian  was  then  uncertain  in  his  hold 
on  the  Government  he  had  established,  and,  as  it  soon 
proved,  it  would  have  been  what  General  Custer  then  thought 
comparatively  an  easy  matter  to  drive  out  the  usurper.  The 
question  was  settled  by  the  Government's  refusing  to  grant 
the  year's  leave  for  which  application  was  made,  and  the 
General  was  too  fond  of  his  country  to  take  any  but  temporary 
service  in  another. 

This  decision  made  me  very  grateful,  and  when  there  was 
no  longer  danger  of  further  exposure  of  life,  I  was  also 
thankful  for  the  expressions  of  confidence  and  admiration  of 
my  husband's  ability  as  a  soldier  that  this  contemplated 
move  had  drawn  out.  I  was  willing  my  husband  should  ac- 
cept any  offer  he  had  received  except  the  last.  I  was  tempted 
to  beg  him  to  resign;  for  this  meant  peace  of  mind  and  a 
long,  tranquil  life  for  me.  It  was  my  father's  counsel  alone 
that  kept  me  from  urging  each  new  proposition  to  take  up 
the  life  of  a  civilian.  He  advised  me  to  forget  myself.  He 
knew  well  what  a  difficult  task  it  was  to  school  myself  to  en- 
dure the  life  on  which  I  had  entered  so  thoughtlessly  as  a 
girl.  I  had  never  been  thrown  with  army  people,  and  knew 
nothing  before  my  marriage  of  the  separations  and  anxieties 
of  military  life.  Indeed,  I  was  so  young  that  it  never  occurred 
to  me  that  people  could  become  so  attached  to  each  other 
that  it  would  be  misery  to  be  separated.  And  now  that  this 


198  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

divided  existence  loomed  up  before  me,  father  did  not  blame 
me  for  longing  for  any  life  that  would  ensure  our  being 
together.  He  had  a  keen  sense  of  humor,  and  could  not 
help  reminding  me  occasionally,  when  I  told  him  despair- 
ingly that  I  could  not,  I  simply  would not,  live  a  life  where  I 
could  not  be  always  with  my  husband,  of  days  before  I  knew 
the  General,  when  I  declared  to  my  parents,  if  ever  I  did 
marry  it  would  not  be  a  dentist,  as  our  opposite  neighbor  ap- 
peared never  to  leave  the  house.  It  seemed  to  me  then  that 
the  wife  had  a  great  deal  to  endure  in  the  constant  presence 
of  her  husband. 

My  father,  strict  in  his  sense  of  duty,  constantly  appealed 
to  me  to  consider  only  my  husband's  interests,  and  forget  my 
own  selfish  desires.  In  an  old  letter  written  at  that  time,  I 
quoted  to  the  General  something  that  father  had  said  to  me: 
"  Why,  daughter,  I  would  rather  have  the  honor  which  grows 
out  of  the  way  in  which  the  battle  of  Waynesboro  was  fought, 
than  to  have  the  wealth  of  the  Indies.  Armstrong's  battle 
is  better  to  hand  down  to  posterity  than  wealth."  He  used 
in  those  days  to  walk  the  floor  and  say  to  me,  "  My  child, 
put  no  obstacles  in  the  way  to  the  fulfillment  of  his  destiny. 
He  chose  his  profession.  He  is  a  born  soldier.  There  he 
must  abide." 

In  the  midst  of  this  indecision,  when  the  General  was 
obliged  to  be  in  New  York  and  Washington  on  business,  my 
father  was  taken  ill.  The  one  whom  I  so  sorely  needed  in 
all  those  ten  years  that  followed,  when  I  was  often  alone  in 
the  midst  of  the  dangers  and  anxieties  and  vicissitudes  attend- 
ing our  life,  stepped  into  heaven  as  quietly  and  peacefully  as 
if  going  into  another  room.  His  last  words  were  to  urge  me 
to  do  my  duty  as  a  soldier's  wife.  He  again  begged  me  to 
ignore  self,  and  remember  that  my  husband  had  chosen  the 
profession  of  a  soldier;  in  that  life  he  had  made  a  name,  and 
there,  where  he  was  so  eminently  fitted  to  succeed,  he  should 
remain. 

My  father's  counsel  and  his  dying  words  had  great  weight 
with  me,  and  enabled  me  to  fight  against  the  selfishness  that 


GEN.  CUSTER   PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.        199 

was  such  a  temptation.  Very  few  women,  even  the  most 
ambitious  for  their  husbands'  future,  but  would  have  con- 
fessed, at  the  close  of  the  war,  that  glory  came  with  too  great 
sacrifices,  and  they  would  rather  gather  the  husbands,  lovers 
and  brothers  into  the  shelter  of  the  humblest  of  homes,  than 
endure  the  suspense  and  loneliness  of  war  times.  I  am  sure 
that  my  father  was  right,  for  over  and  over  again,  in  after 
years,  my  husband  met  his  brother  officers  who  had  resigned, 
only  to  have  poured  into  his  ear  regrets  that  they  had  left 
the  service.  I  have  known  him  to  come  to  me  often,  saying 
he  could  not  be  too  thankful  that  he  had  not  gone  into  civil 
life.  He  believed  that  a  business  man  or  a  politician  should 
have  discipline  in  youth  for  the  life  and  varied  experience 
with  all  kinds  of  people,  to  make  a  successful  career.  Of- 
ficers, from  the  very  nature  of  their  life,  are  prescribed  in 
their  associates.  They  are  isolated  so  much  at  extreme  posts 
that  they  know  little  or  nothing  of  the  life  of  citizens.  After 
resigning,  they  found  themselves  robbed  of  the  companion- 
ship so  dear  to  military  people,  unable,  from  want  of  early 
training,  to  cope  successfully  with  business  men,  and  lacking, 
from  inexperience,  the  untiring,  plodding  spirit  that  is  req- 
uisite to  the  success  of  a  civilian.  An  officer  rarely  gives  a 
note — his  promise  is  his  bond.  It  is  seldom  violated.  It 
would  be  impossible  for  me,  even  in  my  twelve  years'  experi- 
ence, to  enumerate  the  times  I  have  known,  when  long- 
standing debts,  for  which  there  was  not  a  scrap  of  written 
proof,  were  paid  without  solicitation  on  the  part  of  the  friend 
who  was  the  creditor.  One  of  our  New  York  hotels  furnishes 
proof  of  how  an  officer's  word  is  considered.  A  few  years 
since,  Congress  failed  to  make  the  usual  yearly  appropriation 
for  the  pay  of  the  army.  A  hotel  that  had  been  for  many 
years  the  resort  of  military  people,  immediately  sent  far  and 
wide  to  notify  the  army  that  no  bills  would  be  presented  until 
the  next  Congress  had  passed  the  appropriation.  To  satisfy 
myself,  I  have  inquired  if  they  lost  by  this,  and  been  assured 
that  they  did  not. 

Men  reared  to  consider  their  word  equal  to  the  most  bind- 


200  TENTING    ON   THE    PLAINS. 

ing  legal  contract  ever  made,  would  naturally  find  it  difficult 
to  realize,  when  entering  civil  life,  that  something  else  is 
considered  necessary.  The  wary  take  advantage  of  the  cre- 
dulity of  a  military  man,  and  usually  the  first  experience  is 
financial  loss  to  an  officer  who  has  confidingly  allowed  a 
debt  to  be  contracted  without  all  the  restrictive  legal  arrange- 
ments with  which  citizens  have  found  it  necessary  to  surround 
money  transactions.  And  so  the  world  goes.  The  capital 
with  which  an  officer  enters  into  business  is  lost  by  too  much 
confidence  in  his  brother  man,  and  when  he  becomes  richer 
by  experience,  he  is  so  poor  in  pocket  he  cannot  venture  into 
competition  with  the  trained  and  skilled  business  men  among 
whom  he  had  entered  so  sanguinely. 

Politics  also  have  often  proved  disastrous  to  army  officers. 
Allured  by  promises,  they  have  accepted  office,  and  been  al- 
lowed a  brief  success;  but  who  can  be  more  completely  done 
for  than  an  office-holder  whose  party  goes  out  of  power  ?  The 
born  politician,  one  who  has  grown  wary  in  the  great  game, 
provides  for  the  season  of  temporary  retirement  which  the 
superseding  of  his  party  necessitates.  His  antagonist  calls  it 
"feathering  his  nest,"  but  a  free-handed  and  sanguine  mili- 
tary man  has  done  no  "  feathering,"  and  it  is  simply  pitiful 
to  see  to  what  obscurity  and  absolute  poverty  they  are  brought. 
The  men  whose  chestnuts  the  ingenuous,  unsuspecting  man 
has  pulled  out  of  the  fire,  now  pass  him  by  unnoticed.  Such 
an  existence  to  a  proud  man  makes  him  wish  he  had  died  on 
the  field  of  battle,  before  any  act  of  his  had  brought  chagrin. 

All  these  things  I  have  heard  my  husband  say,  when  we 
have  encountered  some  heartbroken  man;  and  he  worked 
for  nothing  harder  than  that  they  might  be  reinstated  in  the 
service,  or  lifted  out  of  their  perplexities  by  occupation  of 
some  sort.  There  was  an  officer,  a  classmate  at  West  Point, 
who,  he  felt  with  all  his  heart,  did  right  in  resigning.  If  he 
had  lived  he  would  have  written  his  tribute,  and  I  venture  to 
take  up  his  pen  to  say,  in  my  inadequate  way,  what  he  would 
have  said  so  well,  moved  by  the  eloquence  of  deep  feeling. 

My  husband  believed  in  what  old-fashioned  people  term 


GEN.  CUSTER    PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.        2OI 

a  "calling,"  and  he  himself  had  felt  a  call  to  be  a  soldier, 
when  he  could  scarcely  speak  plain.  It  was  not  the  usual 
early  love  of  boys  for  adventure.  We  realize  how  natural  it 
is  for  a  lad  to  enjoy  tales  of  hotly  contested  fields,  and  to 
glory  over  bloodshed.  The  boy  in  the  Sunday-school,  when 
asked  what  part  of  the  Bible  he  best  liked,  said  promptly, 
"  The  fightenest  part! "  and  another,  when  his  saintly  teacher 
questioned  him  as  to  whom  he  first  wished  to  see  when  he 
reached  heaven,  vociferated  loudly,  "Goliath!"  But  the 
love  of  a  soldier's  life  was  not  the  fleeting  desire  of  the  child, 
in  my  husband;  it  became  the  steady  purpose  of  his  youth, 
the  happy  realization  of  his  early  manhood.  For  this  reason 
he  sympathized  with  all  who  felt  themselves  drawn  to  a  cer- 
tain place  in  the  world.  He  thoroughly  believed  in  a  boy  (if 
it  was  not  a  pernicious  choice)  having  his  "bent."  And  so 
it  happened,  when  it  was  our  good  fortune  to  be  stationed 
with  his  classmate,  Colonel  Charles  C.  Parsons,  at  Leaven- 
worth,  that  he  gave  a  ready  ear  when  his  old  West  Point 
chum  poured  out  his  longings  for  a  different  sphere  in  life. 
He  used  to  come  to  me  after  these  sessions,  when  the  Colo- 
nel went  over  and  over  again  his  reasons  for  resigning,  and 
wonder  how  he  could  wish  to  do  so,  but  he  respected  his 
friend's  belief  that  he  had  another  "  calling"  too  thoroughly 
to  oppose  him.  He  thought  the  place  of  captain  of  a  batteiy 
of  artillery  the  most  independent  in  the  service.  He  is  de- 
tached from  his  regiment,  he  reports  only  to  the  command- 
ing officer  of  the  post,  he  is  left  so  long  at  one  station  that 
he  can  make  permanent  arrangements  for  comfort,  and,  ex- 
cept in  times  of  war,  the  work  is  garrison  and  guard  duty. 
Besides  this,  the  pay  of  a  captain  of  a  battery  is  good,  and 
he  is  not  subject  to  constant  moves,  which  tax  the  finances 
of  a  cavalry  officer  so  severely.  After  enumerating  these  ad- 
vantages, he  ended  by  saying,  "  There's  nothing  to  be  done, 
though,  for  if  Parsons  thinks  he  ought  to  go  into  an  uncer- 
tainty, and  leave  what  is  a  surety  for  life,  why,  he  ought  to 
follow  his  convictions." 

The  next  time  we  saw  the  Colonel,  he  was  the  rector  of  a 


2O2  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

small  mission  church  on  the  outskirts  of  Memphis.  We  were 
with  the  party  of  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis  when  he  went  by 
steamer  to  New  Orleans.  General  Sheridan  had  asked  Gen- 
eral Custer  to  go  on  a  buffalo-hunt  with  the  Duke  in  the 
Territory  of  Wyoming,  and  he  in  turn  urged  the  General  to 
remain  with  him  afterward,  until  he  left  the  country.  At 
Memphis,  the  city  gave  a  ball,  and  my  husband  begged  his 
old  comrade  to  be  present.  It  was  the  first  time  since  his 
resignation  that  the  Colonel  and  his  beautiful  wife  had  been 
in  society.  Their  parish  was  poor,  and  they  had  only  a  small 
and  uncertain  salary.  Colonel  Parsons  was  not  in  the  least 
daunted;  he  was  as  hopeful  and  as  enthusiastic  as  such  ear- 
nest people  alone  can  be,  as  certain  he  was  right  as  if  his  duty 
had  been  revealed  to  him  as  divine  messages  were  to  the 
prophets  of  old.  The  General  was  touched  by  the  fearless 
manner  in  which  he  faced  poverty  and  obscurity. 

It  would  be  necessary  for  one  to  know,  by  actual  observa- 
tion, what  a  position  of  authority,  of  independence,  of  assured 
and  sufficient  income,  he  left,  to  sink  his  individuality  in  this 
life  that  he  consecrated  to  his  Master.  When  he  entered 
our  room,  before  we  went  to  the  ballroom,  he  held  up  his 
gloved  hands  to  us  and  said:  "  Custer,  I  wish  you  to  realize 
into  what  extravagance  you  have  plunged  me.  Why,  old 
fellow,  this  is  my  first  indulgence  in  such  frivolities  since  I 
came  down  here."  Mis.  Parsons  was  a  marvel  to  us.  The 
General  had  no  words  that  he  thought  high  enough  praise 
for  her  sacrifice.  Hers  was  for  her  husband,  and  not  a  com- 
plaint did  she  utter. 

Here,  again,  I  should  have  to  take  my  citizen  reader  into 
garrison  before  I  could  make  clear  what  it  was  that  she  gave 
up.  The  vision  of  that  pretty  woman,  as  I  remember  her  at 
Leavenworth,  is  fresh  in  my  mind.  She  danced  and  rode 
charmingly,  and  was  gracious  and  free  from  the  spiteful  envy 
that  sometimes  comes  when  a  garrison  belle  is  so  attractive 
that  the  gossips  say  she  absorbs  all  the  devotion.  Colonel 
Parsons,  not  caring  much  for  dancing,  used  to  stand  and 
watch  with  pride  and  complete  confidence  when  the  men 


GEN.  CUSTER   PARTS   WITH    HIS   STAFF.       203 

gathered  round  his  wife  at  our  hops.  There  were  usually 
more  than  twice  as  many  men  as  women,  and  the  card  of  a 
good  dancer  and  a  favorite  was  frequently  filled  before  she 
left  her  own  house  for  the  dancing-room.  1  find  myself  still 
wondering  how  any  pretty  woman  ever  kept  her  mental  poise 
when  queening  it  at  those  Western  posts.  My  husband,  who 
never  failed  to  be  the  first  to  notice  the  least  sacrifice  that  a 
woman  made  for  her  husband,  looked  upon  Mrs.  Parsons 
with  more  and  more  surprise  and  admiration,  as  he  contrasted 
the  life  in  which  we  found  her  with  her  former  fascinating 
existence. 

The  Colonel,  after  making  his  concession  and  coming  to 
our  ball,  asked  us  in  turn  to  be  present  at  his  church  on  the 
following  Sunday,  and  gave  the  General  a  little  cheap  printed 
card,  which  he  used  to  find  his  way  to  the  suburbs  of  the  city. 
Colonel  Parsons  told  me,  next  day,  that  when  he  entered  the 
reading-desk  and  looked  down  upon  the  dignified,  reverent 
head  of  my  husband,  a  remembrance  of  the  last  time  he  had 
seen  him  in  the  chapel  at  West  Point  came  like  a  flash  of 
lightning  into  his  mind,  and  he  almost  had  a  convulsion,  in 
endeavoring  to  suppress  the  gurgles  of  laughter  that  struggled 
for  expression.  For  an  instant  he  thought,  with  desperate 
fright,  that  he  would  drop  down  behind  the  desk  and  have 
it  out,  and  only  by  the  most  powerful  effort  did  he  rally.  It 
seems  that  a  cadet  in  their  corps  had  fiery  red  hair,  and  dur- 
ing the  stupid  chapel  sermon  Cadet  Custer  had  run  his  fingers 
into  the  boy's  hair,  who  was  in  front  of  him,  pretending 
to  get  them  into  white  heat,  and  then,  taking  them  out, 
pounded  them  as  on  an  anvil.  It  was  a  simple  thing,  and  a 
trick  dating  many  years  back,  but  the  drollery  and  quickness 
of  action  made  it  something  a  man  could  not  recall  with 
calmness. 

Colonel  Parsons  and  his  wife  are  receiving  the  rewards  that 
only  Heaven  can  give  to  lives  of  self-sacrifice.  Mrs.  Parsons, 
after  they  came  North  to  a  parish,  only  lived  a  short  time  to 
enjoy  the  comfort  of  an  Eastern  home.  When  the  yellow 
fever  raged  so  in  the  Mississippi  Valley,  in  1878,  and  volun- 


204  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

teers  came  forward  with  all  the  splendid  generosity  of  this 
part  of  the  world,  Colonel  Parsons  did  not  wait  a  second  call 
from  his  conscience  to  enter  the  fever-scourged  Memphis, 
and  there  he  ended  a  martyr  life:  not  only  ready  to  go  be- 
cause in  his  Master's  service,  but  because  the  best  of  his  life, 
and  one  for  whom  he  continually  sorrowed,  awaited  him  be- 
yond the  confines  of  eternity. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT   FORT   RILEY,    KANSAS. 

GENERAL  CUSTER  was  the  recipient  of  much  kindness  from 
the  soldiers  of  his  Michigan  brigade  while  he  remained  in 
Michigan  awaiting  orders,  and  he  went  to  several  towns 
where  his  old  comrades  had  prepared  receptions  for  him. 
But  when  he  returned  from  a  reunion  in  Detroit  to  our  sad- 
dened home,  there  was  no  grateful,  proud  father  to  listen  to 
the  accounts  of  the  soldiers'  enthusiasm.  My  husband 
missed  his  commendation,  and  his  proud  way  of  referring  to 
his  son.  His  own  family  were  near  us,  and  off  he  started, 
when  he  felt  the  absence  of  the  noble  parent  who  had  so 
proudly  followed  his  career,  and,  running  through  our  stable 
to  shorten  the  distance,  danced  up  a  lane  through  a  back 
gate  into  his  mother's  garden,  and  thence  into  the  midst  of 
his  father's  noisy  and  happy  household.  His  parents,  the 
younger  brother,  Boston,  sister  Margaret,  Colonel  Tom,  and 
often  Eliza,  made  up  the  family,  and  the  uproar  that  these 
boys  and  the  elder  boy,  their  father,  made  around  the  gentle 
mother  and  her  daughters,  was  a  marvel  to  me. 

If  the  General  went  away  to  some  soldiers'  reunion,  he 
tried  on  his  return  to  give  me  a  lucid  account  of  the  cere- 
monies, and  how  signally  he  failed  in  making  a  speech,  of 
course,  and  his  subterfuge  for  hiding  his  confusion  and  get- 
ting out  of  the  scrape  by  proposing  "  Garry  Owen  "  by  the 
band,  or  three  cheers  for  the  old  brigade.  It  was  not  that 
he  had  not  enough  to  say:  his  heart  was  full  of  gratitude  to 
his  comrades,  but  the  words  came  forth  with  such  a  rush, 
there  was  little  chance  of  arriving  at  the  meaning.  I  think 
nothing  moved  him  in  this  coming  together  of  his  dear  sol- 

205 


206  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

diers,  like  his  pride  at  their  naming  babies  after  him.  His 
eyes  danced  with  pleasure,  when  he  told  that  they  stopped 
him  in  the  street  and  held  up  a  little  George  Armstrong  Cus- 
ter,  and  the  shy  wife  was  brought  forward  to  be  congratulated. 
I  dearly  loved,  when  I  chanced  to  be  with  him,  to  witness 
their  pride  and  hear  their  few  words  of  praise. 

Not  long  ago  I  was  in  a  small  town  in  Michigan,  among 
some  of  my  husband's  old  soldiers.  Our  sister  Margaret  was 
reciting  for  the  benefit  of  the  little  church,  and  the  veterans 
asked  for  me  afterward,  and  I  shook  hands  with  a  long  line 
of  bronzed  heroes,  now  tillers  of  the  soil.  Their  praise  of 
their  "  boy  General  "  made  my  grateful  tears  flow,  and  many 
of  their  eyes  moistened  as  they  held  my  hand  and  spoke  of 
war  times.  After  all  had  filed  by,  they  began  to  return  one 
by  one  and  ask  to  bring  their  wives  and  children.  One  sol- 
dier, with  already  silvering  head,  said  quaintly,  "We  have 
often  seen  you  riding  around  with  our  General  in  war  days," 
and  added,  with  a  most  flattering  ignoring  of  time's  treat- 
ment of  me,  ' '  You  look  just  the  same,  though  you  was  a 
young  gal  then;  and  now,  tho*  you  followed  your  husband 
and  took  your  hardships  with  us,  I  want  to  show  you  an  old 
woman  who  was  also  a  purty  good  soldier,  for  while  I  was 
away  at  the  front  she  run  the  farm."  Such  a  welcome,  such 
honest  tribute  to  his  "  old  woman,"  recalled  the  times  when 
the  General's  old  soldiers  gathered  about  him,  with  un- 
affected words,  and  when  I  pitied  him  because  he  fidgeted 
so,  and  bit  his  lips,  and  struggled  to  end  what  was  the  joy 
of  his  life,  for  fear  he  would  cry  like  a  woman.  Among 
those  who  sought  him  out  that  summer  was  an  officer  who 
had  commanded  a  regiment  of  troops  in  the  celebrated  Michi- 
gan brigade — Colonel  George  Grey,  a  brave  Irishman,  with 
as  much  enthusiasm  in  his  friendships  as  in  his  fighting. 
His  wife  and  little  son  were  introduced.  The  boy  had  very 
light  hair,  and  though  taught  to  reverence  and  love  the  Gen- 
eral by  his  gallant,  impulsive  father,  the  child  had  never  real- 
ized until  he  saw  him  that  his  father's  hero  also  had  a  yellow 
head.  Heretofore  the  boy  had  hated  his  hair,  and  implored 


ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT   FORT   RILEY.       2O? 

his  mother  to  dye  it  dark.  But  as  soon  as  his  interview  with 
my  husband  was  ended,  he  ran  to  his  mother,  and  whispered 
in  eager  haste  that  she  need  not  mind  the  dyeing  now,  he 
never  would  scold  about  his  hair  being  light  again,  since  he 
had  seen  that  General  Custer's  was  yellow. 

As  I  look  back  and  consider  what  a  descent  the  major- 
generals  of  the  war  made,  on  returning  to  their  lineal  rank  in 
the  regular  army  after  the  surrender  at  Appomattox,  I  wonder 
how  they  took  the  new  order  of  things  so  calmly,  or  that  they 
so  readily  adapted  themselves  to  the  positions  they  had  filled 
before  the  firing  on  Sumter  in  1861.  General  Custer  held  his 
commission  as  brevet  major-general  for  nearly  a  year  after 
the  close  of  hostilities,  and  until  relieved  in  Texas.  He  did 
not  go  at  once  to  his  regiment,  the  Fifth  Cavalry,  and  take 
up  the  command  of  sixty  men  in  place  of  thousands,  as  other 
officers  of  the  regular  army  were  obliged  to  do,  but  was 
placed  on  waiting  orders,  and  recommended  to  the  lieuten- 
ant-colonelcy of  one  of  the  new  regiments  of  cavalry,  for  five 
new  ones  had  been  formed  that  summer,  making  ten  in  all. 
In  the  autumn,  the  appointment  to  the  Seventh  Cavalry  came, 
with  orders  to  go  to  Fort  Garland.  One  would  have  imag- 
ined, by  the  jubilant  manner  in  which  this  official  document 
was  unfolded  and  read  to  me,  that  it  was  the  inheritance  of 
a  principality.  My  husband  instantly  began  to  go  over  the 
"good  sides  "  of  the  question.  He  was  so  given  to  dwelling 
on  the  high  lights  of  any  picture  his  imagination  painted, 
that  the  background,  which  might  mean  hardships  and  dep- 
rivations, became  indefinite  in  outline,  and  obscure  enough 
in  detail  to  please  the  most  modern  impressionists.  Out  of 
our  camp  luggage  a  map  was  produced,  and  Fort  Garland 
was  discovered,  after  long  prowling  about  with  the  first  fin- 
ger, in  the  space  given  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Then  he 
launched  into  visions  of  what  unspeakable  pleasure  he  would 
have,  fishing  for  mountain  trout  and  hunting  deer.  As  I 
cared  nothing  for  fishing,  and  was  afraid  of  a  gun,  I  don't 
recall  my  veins  bounding  as  his  did  over  the  prospect;  but 
the  embryo  fisherman  and  Nimrod  was  so  sanguine  over  his 


208  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

future,  it  would  have  been  a  stolid  soul  indeed  that  did  not 
begin  to  think  Fort  Garland  a  sort  of  earthly  paradise.  The 
sober  colors  in  this  vivid  picture  meant  a  small,  obscure  post, 
then  several  hundred  miles  from  any  railroad,  not  much  more 
than  a  handful  of  men  to  command,  the  most  complete  iso- 
lation, and  no  prospect  of  an  active  campaign,  as  it  was  far 
from  the  range  of  the  warlike  Indians.  But  Fort  Garland 
soon  faded  from  our  view,  in  the  excitement  and  interest 
over  Fort  Riley,  as  soon  as  our  orders  were  changed  to  that 
post.  We  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  it  on  the  map,  as  it 
was  comparatively  an  old  post,  and  the  Kansas  Pacific  Rail- 
road was  within  ten  miles  of  the  Government  reservation. 

We  ascertained,  by  inquiry,  that  it  was  better  to  buy  the 
necessary  household  articles  at  Leavenworth,  than  to  attempt 
to  carry  along  even  a  simple  outfit  from  the  East.  My  atten- 
tion had  been  so  concentrated  on  the  war,  that  I  found  the 
map  of  Virginia  had  heretofore  comprised  the  only  impor- 
tant part  of  the  United  States  to  me,  and  it  was  difficult  to 
realize  that  Kansas  had  a  city  of  25,000  inhabitants,  with 
several  daily  papers.  Still,  I  was  quite  willing  to  trust  to 
Leavenworth  for  the  purchase  of  household  furniture,  as  it 
seemed  to  me,  what  afterward  proved  true,  that  housekeep- 
ing in  garrison  quarters  was  a  sort  of  camping  out  after  all, 
with  one  foot  in  a  house  and  another  in  position  to  put  into 
the  stirrup  and  spin  "over  the  hills  and  far  away."  We 
packed  the  few  traps  that  had  been  used  in  camping  in  Vir- 
ginia and  Texas,  but  most  of  our  attention  was  given  to  the 
selection  of  a  pretty  girl,  who,  it  was  held  by  both  of  us, 
would  do  more  toward  furnishing  and  beautifying  our  army 
quarters  than  any  amount  of  speechless  bric-a-brac  or  silent 
tapestry.  It  was  difficult  to  obtain  what  seemed  the  one 
thing  needful  "for  our  new  army  home.  In  the  first  place,  the 
mothers  rose  en  masse  and  formed  themselves  into  an  anti- 
frontier  combination.  They  looked  right  into  my  eyes,  with 
harassed  expression,  and  said,  "Why,  Libbie,  they  might 
marry  an  officer!"  ignoring  the  fact  that  the  happiest  girl 
among  them  had  undergone  that  awful  fate,  and  still  laughed 


ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT   FORT   RILEY. 


back  a  denial  of  its  being  the  bitterest  lot  that  can  come  to  a 
woman.  Then  I  argued  that  perhaps  their  daughters  might 
escape  matrimony  entirely,  under  the  fearful  circumstances 
which  they  shuddered  over,  even  in  contemplation,  but  that 
it  was  only  fair  that  the  girls  should  have  a  chance  to  see  the 
"bravest  and  the  tenderest,"  and,  I  mentally  added,  the 
"  livest  "  men,  for  our  town  had  been  forsaken  by  most  of  the 
ambitious,  energetic  boys  as  soon  as  their  school-days  ended. 
The  "  beau  season  "  was  very  brief,  lasting  only  during  their 
summer  vacations,  when  they  came  from  wide-awake  Western 
towns  to  make  love  in  sleepy  Monroe.  One  mother  at  last 
listened  to  my  arguments,  and  said,  "  I  do  want  Laura  to  see 
what  men  of  the  world  are,  and  she  shall  go."  Now,  this 
lovely  mother  had  been  almost  a  second  one  to  me  in  all  my 
lonely  vacations,  after  my  own  mother  died.  She  took  me 
from  the  seminary,  and  gave  me  treats  with  her  own  children, 
and  has  influenced  my  whole  life  by  her  noble,  large  way  of 
looking  at  the  world.  But,  then,  she  has  been  East  a  great 
deal,  and  in  Washington  in  President  Pierce  's  days,  and  real- 
ized that  the  vision  of  the  outside  world,  seen  only  from  our 
Monroe,  was  narrow.  The  dear  Laura  surprised  me  by  ask- 
ing to  have  over  night  to  consider,  and  I  could  not  account 
for  it,  as  she  had  been  so  radiant  over  the  prospect  of  military 
life.  Alas!  next  morning  the  riddle  was  solved,  when  she 
whispered  in  my  ear  that  there  was  a  youth  who  had  already 
taken  into  his  hands  the  disposal  of  her  future,  and  "  he  " 
objected.  So  we  lost  her. 

Monroe  was  then  thought  to  have  more  pretty  girls  than 
any  place  of  its  size  in  the  country.  In  my  first  experience 
of  the  misery  of  being  paragraphed,  it  was  announced  that 
General  Custer  had  taken  to  himself  a  wife,  in  a  town  where 
ninety-nine  marriageable  girls  were  left.  The  fame  of  the 
town  had  gone  abroad,  though,  and  the  ninety-nine  were  not 
without  opportunities.  Widowers  came  from  afar,  with 
avant  couriers  in  the  shape  of  letters  describing  their  wealth, 
their  scholarly  attainments,  and  their  position  in  the  com- 
munity. The  "  boys  "  grown  to  men  halted  in  their  race  for 


2IO  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

wealth  long  enough  to  rush  home  and  propose.  Often  we 
were  all  under  inspection,  and  though  demure  and  seemingly 
unconscious,  I  remember  the  after-tea  walks  when  a  knot  of 
girls  went  off  to  "  lovers'  lane  "  to  exchange  experiences  about 
some  stranger  from  afar,  who  had  been  brought  around  by  a 
solicitous  match-maker  to  view  the  landscape  o'er,  and  I  am 
afraid  we  had  some  sly  little  congratulations  when  he,  hav- 
ing shown  signs  of  the  conquering  hero,  was  finally  sent  on 
his  way,  to  seek  in  other  towns,  filled  with  girls,  ' '  fresh 
woods  and  pastures  new."  I  cannot  account  for  the  beauty 
of  the  women  of  Monroe;  the  mothers  were  the  softest, 
serenest,  smoothest-faced  women,  even  when  white-haired. 
It  is  true  it  was  a  very  quiet  life,  going  to  bed  with  the  chick- 
ens, and  up  early  enough  to  see  the  dew  on  the  lawns. 
There  was  very  little  care,  to  plant  furrows  in  the  cheeks  and 
those  tell-tale  radiating  lines  about  the  eyes.  Nearly  every- 
body was  above  want,  and  few  had  enough  of  this  world's 
goods  to  incite  envy  in  the  hearts  of  the  neighbors,  which 
does  its  share  in  a  younger  face.  I  sometimes  think  the 
vicinity  of  Lake  Erie,  and  the  moist  air  that  blew  over  the 
marsh,  kept  the  complexions  fresh.  I  used  to  feel  actually 
sorry  for  my  husband,  when  we  approached  Monroe  after 
coming  from  the  campaigns.  He  often  said:  "  Shall  we  not 
stop  in  Detroit  a  day  or  two,  Libbie,  till  you  get  the  tired 
look  out  of  your  face  ?  I  dread  going  among  the  Monroe 
women  and  seeing  them  cast  reproachful  looks  at  me,  when 
your  sunburned  face  is  introduced  among  their  fair  com- 
plexions. When  you  are  tired  in  addition,  they  seem  to 
think  I  am  a  wretch  unhung,  and  say,  '  Why,  General!  what 
have  you  done  with  Libbie's  transparent  skin  ?  '  I  am  afraid 
it  is  hopelessly  dark  and  irredeemably  thickened !"  In  vain 
I  argued  that  it  wouldn't  be  too  thick  to  let  them  all  see  the 
happy  light  shine  through,  and  if  his  affection  survived  my 
altered  looks,  I  felt  able  to  endure  the  wailing  over  what 
they  thought  I  had  lost.  After  all,  it  was  very  dear  and  kind 
of  them  to  care,  and  my  husband  appreciated  their  solicitude, 
even  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  in  disgrace  for  having  sub- 


ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT   FORT   RILEY.        211 

jected  me  to  such  disfigurement.  Still,  these  mothers  were 
neither  going  to  run  the  risk  of  the  peach-bloom  and  cream 
of  their  precious  girls  all  running  riot  into  one  broad  sun- 
burn up  to  the  roots  of  the  hair,  and  this  was  another  rea- 
son, in  addition  to  the  paramount  one  that  "  the  girls  might 
marry  into  the  army."  The  vagrant  life,  the  inability  to 
keep  household  gods,  giving  up  the  privileges  of  the  church 
and  missionary  societies,  the  loss  of  the  simple  village  gay- 
ety,  the  anxiety  and  suspense  of  a  soldier's  wife,  might  well 
make  the  mothers  opposed  to  the  life,  but  this  latter  reason 
did  not  enter  into  all  their  minds.  Some  thought  of  the 
loaves  and  fishes.  One  said,  in  trying  to  persuade  me  that 
it  was  better  to  break  my  engagement  with  the  General, 
"  Why,  girl,  you  can't  be  a  poor  man's  wife,  and,  besides,  he 
might  lose  a  leg!  "  1  thought,  even  then,  gay  and  seeming- 
ly thoughtless  as  I  was,  that  a  short  life  with  poverty  and  a 
wooden  leg  was  better  than  the  career  suggested  to  me.  I 
hope  the  dear  old  lady  is  not  blushing  as  she  reads  this,  and 
I  remind  her  how  she  took  me  up  into  a  high  mountain  and 
pointed  out  a  house  that  might  be  mine,  with  so  many  dozen 
spoons,  "  solid,"  so  many  sheets  and  pillow-slips,  closets  fill- 
ed with  jars  of  preserved  fruit,  all  of  which  I  could  not  hope 
to  have  in  the  life  in  which  I  chose  to  cast  my  lot,  where 
peaches  ripened  on  no  garden-wall  and  bank-accounts  were 
unknown. 

When  we  were  ready  to  set  out  for  the  West,  in  October, 
1866,  our  caravan  summed  up  something  like  this  list: 
My  husband's  three  horses — Jack  Rucker,  the  thoroughbred 
mare  he  had  bought  in  Texas,  a  blooded  colt  from  Virginia 
named  Phil  Sheridan — and  my  own  horse,  a  fast  pacer  nam- 
ed Custis  Lee,  the  delight  of  my  eyes  and  the  envy  of  the 
General's  staff  while  we  were  in  Virginia  and  Texas;  several 
hounds  given  to  the  General  by  the  planters  with  whom  he 
had  hunted  deer  in  Texas;  a  superb  greyhound,  his  head 
carried  so  loftily  as  he  walked  his  lordly  way  among  the  other 
dogs,  that  I  thought  he  would  have  asked  to  carry  his  family- 
tree  on  his  brass  collar,  could  he  have  spoken  for  his  rights. 


ORDERS  TO  REPORT  AT  FORT  RILEY.   213 

Last  of  all,  some  one  had  given  us  the  ugliest  white  bull-dog 
I  ever  saw.  But  in  time  we  came  to  think  that  the  twist  in 
his  lumpy  tail,  the  curve  in  his  bow  legs,  the  ambitious  nose, 
which  drew  the  upper  lip  above  the  heaviest  of  protruding- 
jaws,  were  simply  beauties,  for  the  dog  was  so  affectionate 
and  loyal,  that  everything  which  at  first  seemed  a  draw-back 
leaned  finally  to  virtue's  side.  He  was  well  named  "  Turk," 
and  a  "set  to"  or  so  with  Byron,  the  domineering  grey- 
hound established  his  rights,  so  that  it  only  needed  a  deep 
growl  and  an  uprising  of  the  bristles  on  his  back,  to  recall  to 
the  overbearing  aristocrat  some  wholesome  lessons  given 
him  when  the  acquaintance  began.  Turk  was  devoted  to  the 
colt  Phil,  and  the  intimacy  of  the  two  was  comical;  Phil  re- 
paid Turk's  little  playful  nips  at  the  legs  by  lifting  him  in  his 
teeth  as  high  as  the  feed-box,  by  the  loose  skin  of  nis  back. 
But  nothing  could  get  a  whimper  out  of  him,  for  he  was  the 
pluckiest  of  brutes.  He  curled  himself  up  in  Phil's  stall  when 
he  slept,  and  in  traveling  was  his  close  companion  in  the  box 
car.  If  we  took  the  dog  to  drive  with  us,  he  had  to  be  in  the 
buggy,  as  our  time  otherwise  would  have  been  constantly 
engaged  in  dragging  him  off  from  any  dog  that  strutted 
around  him  and  needed  a  lesson  in  humility.  When  Turk 
was  returned  to  Phil,  after  any  separation,  they  greeted  each 
other  in  a  most  human  way.  Turk  leaped  around  the  colt, 
and  in  turn  was  rubbed  and  nosed  about  with  speaking  little 
snorts  of  welcome.  When  we  came  home  to  this  ugly  duck- 
ling, he  usually  made  a  spring  and  landed  in  my  lap,  as  if  he 
were  the  tiniest,  silkiest  little  Skye  in  dogdom.  He  half 
closed  his  eyes,  with  that  beatific  expression  peculiar  to  af- 
fectionate dogs,  and  did  his  little  smile  at  my  husband  and 
me  by  raising  what  there  was  of  his  upper  lip  and  showing 
his  front  teeth.  All  this  with  an  ignoring  of  the  other  dogs 
and  an  air  of  exclusion,  as  if  we  three — his  master,  mistress, 
and  himself — composed  all  there  was  of  earth  worth  know- 
ing. 

We  had  two  servants,  one  being  Eliza,  our  faithful  colored 
woman,  who  had   been  with  us  in  Virginia  and  Texas,  and 


214  TENTING    ON    THE    PLAINS. 

had  come  home  with  me  to  care  for  my  father  in  his  last  ill- 
ness. We  had  also  a  worthless  colored  boy,  who  had  been 
trained  as  a  jockey  in  Texas  and  had  returned  with  the 
horses.  What  intellect  he  had  was  employed  in  devising 
schemes  to  escape  work.  Eliza  used  her  utmost  persuasive 
eloquence  on  him  without  effect,  and  failed  equally  with  a 
set  of  invectives  that  had  been  known  heretofore  to  break 
the  most  stubborn  case  of  lethargy.  My  tender-hearted  mo- 
ther Custer  screened  him,  for  he  had  soon  discovered  her 
amazing  credulity,  and  had  made  out  a  story  of  abuses  to 
which  he  had  been  subjected  that  moved  her  to  confide  his 
wrongs  to  me.  Two  years  before,  I  too  would  have  dropped 
a  tear  over  his  history;  but  a  life  among  horses  had  enlighten- 
ed me  somewhat.  Every  one  knows  that  a  negro  will  do  al- 
most anything  to  become  a  jockey.  Their  bitterest  moment 
is  when  they  find  that  growing  bone  and  muscle  is  making 
avoirdupois  and  going  to  cut  them  off  from  all  that  makes 
life  worth  living.  To  reduce  their  weight,  so  they  can  ride 
at  races,  they  are  steamed,  and  parboiled  if  necessary.  This 
process  our  lazy  servant  described  to  our  mother  as  having 
been  enforced  on  him  as  a  torture  and  punishment,  and  such 
a  good  story  did  he  make  out,  that  he  did  nothing  but  lie  in 
the  sun  and  twang  an  old  banjo  all  summer  long,  all  owing 
to  mother's  pity.  We  had  to  take  him  with  us,  to  save  her 
from  waiting  on  him  and  making  reparation  for  what  she 
supposed  had  been  a  life  of  abuse  before  he  came  to  us. 

Last  of  all  to  describe  in  our  party  was  Diana,  the  pretty 
belle  of  Monroe.  The  excitement  of  anticipation  gave  added 
brightness  to  her  eyes,  and  the  head,  sunning  over  with  a 
hundred  curls,  danced  and  coquetted  as  she  talked  of  our 
future  among  the  "brass  buttons  and  epaulets." 

My  going  out  from  home  was  not  so  hard  as  it  had  been, 
for  the  dear  father  had  gone  home,  saying  in  his  last  words, 
"Daughter,  continue  to  do  as  you  have  done;  follow  Arm- 
strong everywhere."  It  had  indeed  been  a  temptation  to 
me  to  use  all  my  influence  to  induce  my  husband  to  resign 
and  accept  the  places  held  out  to  him.  I  do  not  recollect 


ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT    FORT    RILEY. 


that  ambition  or  a  far  look  into  his  progress  in  the  future 
entered  my  mind.  I  can  only  remember  thinking  with  envy 
of  men  surrounding  us  in  civil  life,  who  came  home  to  their 
wives,  after  every  day's  business.  Even  now,  I  look  upon  a 
laborer  returning  to  his  home  at  night  with  his  tin  dinner- 
pail  as  a  creature  to  be  envied,  and  my  imagination  follows 
the  husband  into  his  humble  house.  The  wife  to  whom  he 
returns  may  have  lost  much  that  ambition  and  success  bring, 
but  she  has  secured  for  herself  a  lifetime  of  happy  twilights, 
when  all  she  cares  for  is  safe  under  her  affectionate  eyes. 

Our  father  and  mother  Custer  lived  near  us,  and  Sister 
Margaret  and  the  younger  brother,  "Bos,"  were  then  at 
home  and  in  school.  The  parting  with  his  mother,  the  only 
sad  hour  to  my  blithe  husband,  tore  his  heart  as  it  always 
did,  and  he  argued  in  vain  with  her,  that,  as  he  had  come 
home  after  five  years  of  incessant  battles,  she  might  look  for 
his  safe  return  again.  Each  time  seemed  to  be  the  last  to 
her,  for  she  was  so  delicate  she  hardly  expected  to  live  to  see 
him  again. 

The  summer  had  been  one  of  such  pleasure  to  her.  Her 
beloved  boy,  dashing  in  and  out  in  his  restless  manner,  was 
never  too  absorbed  with  whatever  took  up  his  active  mind, 
to  be  anything  but  gentle  and  thoughtful  for  her.  She  found 
our  Eliza  a  mine  of  information,  and  just  as  willing  as  mother 
herself  to  talk  all  day  about  the  one  topic  in  common  —  the 
General  and  his  war  experiences. 

Then  the  dogs  and  horses,  and  the  stir  and  life  produced 
by  the  introduction  of  ourselves  and  our  belongings  into  her 
quiet  existence,  made  her  recall  the  old  farm  life  when  her 
brood  of  children  were  all  around  her.  Brother  Tom  had 
spent  the  summer  skipping  from  flower  to  flower,  tasting  the 
sweets  of  all  the  rosebud  garden  of  girls  in  our  pretty  town. 
I  had  already  taken  to  myself  a  good  deal  of  the  mothering 
of  this  wild  boy,  and  began  to  worry,  as  is  the  custom  of 
mothers,  over  the  advances  of  a  venturesome  woman  who 
was  no  longer  young  and  playing  for  high  stakes.  It  was  no 
small  matter  to  me,  as  I  knew  Tom  would  live  with  us  always 


2l6  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

if  he  could  manage  to  do  so,  and  my  prospective  sister-in-law 
would  be  my  nearest  companion.  Lad  as  he  was,  he  escaped, 
and  preserved  his  heart  in  an  unbroken  condition  during  the 
summer.  Much  to  our  regret,  he  was  appointed  to  a  lieu- 
tenancy in  a  regiment  stationed  South,  after  he  was  mus- 
tered out  of  the  volunteer  service;  but  the  General  succeeded 
in  effecting  his  transfer  to  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  and  after  a 
short  service  in  the  South  he  joined  us  at  Fort  Riley  that 
year. 

One  of  our  Detroit  friends  invited  us  to  go  with  a  party  of 
pretty  women,  in  a  special  car,  to  St.  Louis;  so  we  had  a  gay 
send-off  for  our  new  home.  I  don't  remember  to  have  had 
an  anxiety  as  to  the  fnture;  I  was  wholly  given  over  to  the 
joy  of  realizing  that  the  war  was  over,  and,  girl-like,  now  the 
one  great  danger  was  passed,  I  felt  as  if  all  that  sort  of  life 
was  forever  ended.  At  any  rate,  the  magnetic  influence  of 
my  husband's  joyous  temperament,  which  would  not  look  on 
the  dark  side,  had  such  power  over  those  around  him  that  I 
was  impelled  to  look  upon  our  future  as  he  did.  In  St.  Louis 
we  had  a  round  of  gayety.  The  great  Fair  was  then  at  its 
best,  for  every  one  was  making  haste  to  dispel  the  gloom 
that  our  terrible  war  had  cast  over  the  land.  There  was  not 
a  corner  of  the  Fair-ground  to  which  my  husband  did  not 
penetrate.  He  took  me  into  all  sorts  of  places  to  which  our 
pretty  galaxy  of  belles,  with  their  new  conquests  of  St.  Louis 
beaux,  had  no  interest  in  going — the  stalls  of  the  thorough- 
bred horses — when  a  chat  with  the  jockeys  was  included;  the 
cattle,  costing  per  head  what,  we  whispered  to  each  other, 
would  set  us  up  in  a  handsome  income  for  life  and  buy  a 
Blue-grass  farm  with  blooded  horses,  etc. ,  which  was  my  hus- 
band's ideal  home.  And  yet  I  do  not  remember  that  money 
ever  dwelt  very  long  in  our  minds,  we  learned  to  have  such  a 
royal  time  on  so  little. 

There  was  something  that  always  came  before  the  Ken- 
tucky farm  with  its  thoroughbreds.  If  ever  he  said,  "If 
I  get  rich,  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,"  I  knew  as  well  before 
he  spoke  just  what  was  to  follow — in  all  the  twelve  years  he 


ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT   FORT   RILEY. 


never  altered  the  first  plan  —  "  I'll  buy  a  home  for  father  and 
mother."  They  owned  their  home  in  Monroe  then,  but  it 
was  not  good  enough  to  please  him  ;  nothing  was  good 
enough  for  his  mother,  but  the  dear  woman,  with  her  simple 
tastes,  would  have  felt  far  from  contented  in  the  sort  of 
home  in  which  her  son  longed  to  place  her.  All  she  asked 
was  to  gather  her  boys  around  her  so  that  she  could  see  them 
every  day. 

As  we  wandered  round  the  Fair-grounds,  side-shows  with 
their  monstrosities  came  into  the  General's  programme,  and 
the  prize  pigs  were  never  neglected.  If  we  bent  over  the 
pens  to  see  the  huge  things  rolling  in  lazy  contentment,  my 
husband  went  back  to  his  farm  days,  and  explained  what 
taught  him  to  like  swine,  in  which,  I  admit,  I  could  not  be 
especially  interested.  His  father  had  given  each  son  a  pig, 
with  the  promise  exacted  in  return  that  they  should  be  daily 
washed  and  combed.  When  the  General  described  the  pink 
and  white  collection  of  pets  that  his  father  distributed  among 
his  sons,  swine  were  no  longer  swine  to  me;  they  were  "  curled 
darlings,"  as  he  pictured  them.  And  now  I  recall,  that  long 
after  he  showed  such  true  appreciation  of  his  friend's  stock 
on  one  of  the  Blue-grass  farms  in  Kentucky  where  we  visited, 
two  pigs  of  royal  birth,  whose  ancestors  dated  back  many 
generations,  were  given  to  us,  and  we  sent  them  home  to  our 
farmer  brother  to  keep  until  we  should  possess  a  place  of  our 
own,  which  was  one  of  the  mild  indulgences  of  our  imagina- 
tion, and  which  we  hoped  would  be  the  diversion  of  our  old 
age.  I  think  it  rather  strange  that  my  husband  looked  so 
fearlessly  into  the  future.  I  hardly  know  how  one  so  active 
could  so  calmly  contemplate  the  days  when  his  steps  would 
be  slow.  We  never  passed  on  the  street  an  old  man  with  gray 
curls  lying  over  his  coat-collar,  but  the  General  slackened  his 
steps  to  say  in  a  whisper,  "There,  Libbie,  that's  me,  forty 
years  from  now."  And  if  there  happened  to  be  John  Ander- 
son's obese  old  wife  by  him,  toddling  painfully  along,  red  and 
out  of  breath,  he  teasingly  added,  "And  that's  what  you 
would  like  to  be."  It  was  a  never-ending  source  of  argument 


218  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

that  I  would  be  much  more  successful  in  the  way  of  looks  if 
I  were  not  so  slender;  and  as  my  husband,  even  when  a  lad, 
liked  women  who  were  slenderly  formed,  he  loved  to  torment 
me,  by  pointing  out  to  what  awful  proportions  a  woman 
weighing  what  was  to  me  a  requisite  number  of  pounds  some- 
times arrived  in  old  age. 

A  tournament  was  given  in  the  great  amphitheatre  of  the 
Fair  building  in  St.  Louis,  which  was  simply  delightful  to  us. 
The  horsemanship  so  pleased  my  husband  that  he  longed  to 
bound  down  into  the  arena,  take  a  horse,  and  tilt  with  their 
long  lances  at  the  rings.  Some  of  the  Confederate  officers 
rode  for  the  prizes,  and  their  knights'  costume  and  good 
horses  were  objects  of  momentary  envy,  as  they  recalled  the 
riding  academy  exercises  at  West  Point.  Finally,  the  pretty 
ceremony  of  crowning  the  Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty  by  the 
successful  knight  ended  a  real  gala  day  to  us.  At  night  a 
ball  at  the  hotel  gave  us  an  opportunity  to  be  introduced  to 
the  beautiful  woman,  who  sat  on  a  temporary  throne  in  the 
dancing-hall,  and  we  thought  her  well  worth  tilting  lances 
for,  and  that  nothing  could  encourage  good  horsemanship 
like  giving  as  a  prize  the  temporary  possession  of  a  pretty 
girl. 

While  in  St.  Louis  we  heard  Mr.  Lawrence  Barrett  for  the 
first  time.  He  was  of  nearly  the  same  age  as  my  husband, 
and  after  three  years'  soldiering  in  our  war,  as  a  captain  in 
the  Twenty-eighth  Massachusetts  Infantry,  had  returned  to 
his  profession,  full  of  ambition  and  the  sort  of  "go"  that 
called  out  instant  recognition  from  the  General. 

Mr.  Barrett,  in  recalling  lately  the  first  time  he  met  Gen- 
eral Custer,  spoke  of  the  embarrassing  predicament  in  which 
he  was  placed  by  the  impetuous  determination  of  one  whom 
from  that  hour  he  cherished  as  his  warmest  friend.  He  was 
playing  "  Rosedale,"  and  my  husband  was  charmed  with  his 
rendering  of  the  hero's  part.  He  recalled  for  years  the  delicate 
manner  with  which  the  lover  allows  his  wounded  hand  to  be 
bound,  and  the  subtle  cunning  with  which  he  keeps  the  fair 
minister  of  his  hurts  winding  and  unwinding  the  bandages. 


ORDERS   TO   REPORT   AT    FORT   RILEY.       2 19 

Then  Mr.  Barrett  sang  a  song  in  the  play,  which  the  Gen- 
eral hummed  for  years  afterward.  I  remember  his  going  pell- 
mell  into  the  subject  whenever  we  met,  even  when  Mr.  Bar- 
rett was  justifiably  glowing  with  pride  over  his  success  in  the 
legitimate  drama,  and  interrupting  him  to  ask  why  he  no 
longer  played  "  Rosedale."  The  invariable  answer  that  the 
play  required  extreme  youth  in  the  hero,  had  no  sort  of  power 
to  stop  the  continued  demand  for  his  favorite  melodrama. 
After  we  had  seen  the  play — it  was  then  acted  for  the  first 
time — the  General  begged  me  to  wait  in  the  lobby  until  he 
had  sought  out  Mr.  Barrett  to  thank  him,  and  on  our  return 
from  the  theatre  we  lay  in  wait,  knowing  that  he  stopped  at 
our  hotel.  As  he  was  going  quietly  to  his  room — reserved 
even  then,  boy  that  he  was,  with  not  a  trace  of  the  impetu- 
ous, ardent  lover  he  had  so  lately  represented  before  the  foot- 
lights— off  raced  the  General  up  the  stairs,  two  steps  at  a 
time,  to  capture  him.  He  demurred,  saying  his  rough  trav- 
eling suit  of  gray  was  hardly  presentable  in  a  drawing-room, 
but  the  General  persisted,  saying,  "  The  old  lady  told  me  I 
must  seize  you,  and  go  you  must,  for  I  don't  propose  to  re- 
turn without  fulfilling  her  orders."  Mr.  Barrett  submitted, 
and  was  presented  to  our  party,  who  had  accompanied  us  on 
the  special  car  to  St.  Louis.  The  gray  clothes  were  forgotten 
in  a  moment,  in  the  reception  we  gave  him;  but  music  came 
out  from  the  dining-room,  and  all  rose  to  go,  as  Mr.  Barrett 
supposed,  to  our  rooms.  The  General  took  a  lady  on  his  arm, 
I,  at  my  husband's  suggestion,  put  my  hand  on  Mr.  Barrett's 
arm,  and  before  he  had  realized  it,  he  was  being  marched 
into  the  brilliantly  lighted  ballroom,  and  bowing  from  force 
of  capture  before  the  dais  on  which  sat  the  Queen  of  Love 
and  Beauty. 

All  this  delighted  the  General.  Unconventional  himself, 
he  nothing  heeded  the  chagrin  of  Mr.  Barrett  over  his  inap- 
propriate garb,  and  chuckled  like  a  schoolboy  over  his  suc- 
cessful raid.  I  think  Mr.  Barrett  was  not  released  until  he 
pleaded  the  necessity  for  time  to  work.  He  was  then  reading 
and  studying  far  into  the  night,  to  make  up  for  the  lapse  in 


220  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

his  profession  that  his  army  life  had  caused.  He  was  not  so 
absorbed  in  his  literary  pursuits,  however,  that  he  did  not 
take  in  the  charm  of  those  beautitul  St.  Louis  girls,  and  we 
three,  in  many  a  jolly  evening  since,  have  gone  back  to  the 
beauty  of  the  bewitching  belles,  as  they  floated  by  us  in  that 
ballroom  or  paused  to  capture  the  new  Richmonds  on  their 
already  crowded  field.  Mr.  Barrett  even  remembers  that  the 
Queen  of  Love  and  Beauty  vouchsafed  him  the  eighth  of  a 
dance — for  her  royal  highness  dispensed  favors  by  piecemeal 
to  the  waiting  throng  about  her  throne. 

Our  roving  life  brought  us  in  contact  with  actors  frequent- 
ly. If  the  General  found  that  Mr.  Barrett  was  to  play  in  any 
accessible  city,  he  hurried  me  into  my  traveling-gown,  flung 
his  own  dress-coat  and  my  best  bonnet  in  a  crumpled  mass 
into  a  little  trunk,  and  off  we  started  in  pursuit.  It  is  hard 
to  speak  fittingly  of  the  meeting  of  those  two  men.  They  joy- 
ed in  each  other  as  women  do,  and  I  tried  not  to  look  when 
they  met  or  parted,  while  they  gazed  with  tears  into  each 
other's  eyes,  and  held  hands  like  exuberant  girls.  Each  kept 
track  of  the  other's  movements,  through  the  papers,  and  re- 
joiced at  every  success,  while  Mr.  Barrett,  with  the  voice 
my  husband  thought  perfect  in  intonation  and  expression, 
always  called  to  him  the  moment  they  met,  ' '  Well,  old  fellow, 
hard  at  work  making  history,  are  you  ?  " 

A  few  evenings  since  1  chanced  to  see  Mr.  Barrett's  dresser, 
the  Irish  "  Garry,"  who  had  charge  of  his  costumes  in  those 
days  when  the  General  used  to  haunt  the  dressing-room  in 
the  last  winter  we  were  together  in  New  York.  As  Cassius 
he  entered  the  room  in  armor,  and  found  his  "  old  man  Cus- 
ter  "  waiting  for  him.  Gany  tells  me  that  my  husband  leap- 
ed toward  the  mailed  and  helmeted  soldier,  and  gave  him 
some  rousing  bangs  on  the  corseleted  chest,  for  they  sparred 
like  boys.  Mr.  Barrett,  parrying  the  thrust,  said,  "  Custer,  old 
man,  you  ought  to  have  one  of  these  suits  of  armor  for  your 
work."  "Ye  gods,  no  !  "  said  the  General,  in  mimic  alarm; 
"  with  that  glistening  breast-plate  as  a  target,  every  arrow 
would  be  directed  at  me.  I'd  rather  go  naked  than  in  that  !  " 


W   A 


KANSAS   IN    1866  AND   KANSAS   TO-DAY. 

fn  1866  there  were  three  hundred  miles  of  railroad;  in  1886,  six  thousand  one 
hundred  and  forty-four. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

WESTWARD   HO  ! — FIGHTING     DISSIPATION     IN    THE   SEVENTH 
CAVALRY—GENERAL  CUSTER'S  TEMPTATIONS. 

THE  junketing  and  frolic  at  St.  Louis  came  to  an  end  in  a 
few  days,  and  our  faces  were  again  turned  westward  to  a  life 
about  as  different  from  the  glitter  and  show  of  a  gay  city  in  a 
holiday  week  as  can  be  imagined.  Leavenworth  was  our 
first  halt,  and  its  well-built  streets  and  excellent  stores  sur- 
prised us.  It  had  long  been  the  outfitting  place  for  our  offi- 
cers. The  soldiers  drew  supplies  from  the  military  post,  and 
the  officers  furnished  themselves  with  camp  equipage  from 
the  city.  Here  also  they  bought  condemned  ambulances, 
and  put  them  in  order  for  traveling-carriages  for  their  fami- 
lies. I  remember  getting  a  faint  glimmer  of  the  climate  we 
were  about  to  endure,  by  seeing  a  wagon  floored,  and  its 
sides  lined  with  canvas,  which  was  stuffed  to  keep  out  the 
cold,  while  a  little  sheet-iron  stove  was  firmly  fixed  at  one 
end,  with  a  bit  of  miniature  pipe  protruding  through  the 
roof.  The  journey  from  Fort  Leavenworth  to  Santa  Fe,  New 
Mexico,  then  took  six  weeks.  Everything  was  transported  in 
the  great  army  wagons  called  prairie-schooners.  These  were 
well  named,  as  the  two  ends  of  the  wagon  inclined  upward, 
like  the  bow  and  stern  of  a  fore-and-after.  It  is  hard  to  real- 
ize how  strangely  a  long  train  of  supplies  for  one  of  the  dis- 
tant posts  looked,  as  it  wound  slowly  over  the  plains.  The 
blue  wagon-beds,  with  white  canvas  covers  rising  up  ever  so 
high,  disclosed,  in  the  small  circle  where  they  were  drawn 
together  at  the  back,  all  kinds  of  material  for  the  clothing 
and  feeding  of  the  army  in  the  distant  Territories.  The  num- 
ber of  mules  to  a  wagon  varies;  sometimes  there  are  four, 


223 


224  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

and  again  six.  The  driver  rides  the  near-wheel  mule.  He 
holds  in  his  hand  a  broad  piece  of  leather,  an  inch  and  a  half 
in  width,  which  divides  over  the  shoulders  of  the  lead  or  pilot 
mule,  and  fastens  to  the  bit  on  either  side  of  his  mouth. 
The  leaders  are  widely  separated.  A  small  hickory  stick, 
about  five  feet  long,  called  the  jockey-stick,  not  unlike  a 
rake-handle,  is  stretched  between  a  pilot  and  his  mate.  This 
has  a  little  chain  at  either  end,  and  is  attached  by  a  snap  or 
hook  to  the  bit  of  the  other  leader. 

When  the  driver  gives  one  pull  on  the  heavy  strap,  the 
pilot  mule  veers  to  the  left,  and  pulls  his  mate.  Two  quick, 
sudden  jerks  mean  to  the  right,  and  he  responds,  and  pushes 
his  companion  accordingly;  and  in  this  simple  manner  the 
ponderous  vehicle  and  all  the  six  animals  are  guided.  .  .  . 
The  most  spirited  mules  are  selected  from  the  train  for  lead- 
ers. They  cannot  be  reached  by  the  whip,  and  the  driver 
must  rely  upon  the  emphasis  he  puts  into  his  voice  to  incite 
them  to  effort.  They  know  their  names,  and  I  have  seen 
them  respond  to  a  call,  even  when  not  accompanied  by  the 
expletives  that  seem  to  be  composed  especially  for  this 
branch  of  charioteering.  The  driver  of  our  mules  naturally 
suppressed  his  invectives  in  my  presence.  The  most  profane 
soldier  holds  his  tongue  in  a  vise  when  he  is  in  the  presence 
of  a  woman,  but  he  is  sorely  put  to  it  to  find  a  substitute  for 
the  only  language  he  considers  a  mule  will  heed.  I  have 
seen  our  driver  shake  his  head  and  move  his  jaws  in  an  omi- 
nous manner,  when  the  provoking  leaders  took  a  skittish  leap 
on  one  side  of  the  trail,  or  turned  round  and  faced  him  with 
a  protest  against  further  progress.  They  were  sometimes  so 
afraid  of  buffalo,  and  always  of  Indians,  they  became  rebel- 
lious to  such  a  degree  he  was  at  his  wits'  end  to  get  any 
further  go  out  of  them.  It  was  in  vain  he  called  out,  "  You 
Bet,  there  !"  "What  are  you  about,  Sal?"  He  plainly 
showed  and  said  that  he  found  "  such  'ere  tongue-lashing 
wouldn't  work  worth  a  rap  with  them  vicious  creeturs." 

The  driver,  if  he  is  not  a  stolid  Mexican,  takes  much  pride 
in  his  mules.  By  some  unknown  means,  poor  as  he  is,  he 


WESTWARD    HO  !  225 

possesses  himself  of  fox  or  small  coyote  tails,  which  he  fast- 
ens to  their  bridle,  and  the  vagaries  in  the  clipping  of  the 
poor  beasts' tails,  would  set  the  fashion  to  a  Paris  hair-dresser. 
They  are  shaved  a  certain  distance,  and  then  a  tuft  is  left, 
making  a  bushy  ring.  This  is  done  twice,  if  Bet  or  Sal  is 
vouchsafed  an  appendage  long  enough  to  admit  of  it;  while 
the  tuft  on  the  end,  though  of  little  use  to  intimidate  flies,  is 
a  marvel  of  mule-dudism.  The  coats  of  the  beasts,  so  valued 
sometimes,  shine  like  the  fine  hair  of  a  good  horse.  Alas  ! 
not  when,  in  the  final  stages  of  a  long  march,  the  jaded, 
half-starved  beasts  dragged  themselves  over  the  trail.  Driver 
and  lead  mules  even,  lose  ambition  under  the  scorching  sun, 
and  with  the  insufficient  food  and  long  water  famines. 

The  old  reliability  of  a  mule-team  is  the  off-wheeler.  It  is 
his  leathery  sides  that  can  be  most  readily  reached  by  the 
whip  called  a  "  black-snake,"  and  when  the  descent  is  made 
into  a  stream  with  muddy  bed,  the  cut  is  given  to  this  faith- 
ful beast,  and  on  his  powerful  muscles  depends  the  wrench 
that  jerks  the  old  schooner  out  of  a  slough.  The  nigh  or  sad- 
dle mule  does  his  part  in  such  an  emergency,  but  he  soon 
reasons  that,  because  he  carries  the  driver,  not  much  more 
is  expected  of  him. 

The  General  and  I  took  great  interest  in  the  names  given 
to  the  animals  that  pulled  our  traveling-wagon  or  hauled  the 
supplies.  As  we  rode  by,  the  voice  of  the  driver  bringing  out 
the  name  he  had  chosen,  and  sometimes  affectionately,  made 
us  sure  that  the  woman  for  whom  the  beast  was  christened 
was  the  sweetheart  of  the  apparently  prosaic  teamster.  I 
was  avowedly  romantic,  and  the  General  was  equally  so, 
though,  after  the  fashion  of  men,  he  did  not  proclaim  it. 
Our  place  at  the  head  of  the  column  was  sometimes  vacant, 
either  because  we  were  delayed  for  our  luncheon,  or  because 
my  husband  remained  behind  to  help  the  quartermaster  or  the 
head  teamster  get  the  train  over  a  stream.  It  was  then  that 
we  had  the  advantage  of  hearing  the  names  conferred  on 
the  mules.  They  took  in  a  wide  range  of  female  nomencla- 
ture, and  we  found  it  great  fun  to  watch  the  family  life  of 


226  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

one  human  being  and  his  six  beasts.  My  husband  had  the  ut- 
most respect  for  a  mule's  sense.  When  I  looked  upon  them 
as  dull,  half-alive  animals,  he  bade  me  watch  how  deceitful 
were  appearances,  as  the'y  showed  such  cunning,  and  evinced 
the  wisdom  of  a  quick-witted  thoroughbred,  when  apparent- 
ly they  were  unobserving,  sleepy  brutes.  It  was  the  General 
who  made  me  notice  the  skill  and  rapidity  with  which  a 
group  of  six  mules  would  straighten  out  what  seemed  to  be  a 
hopeless  tangle  of  chains  and  harness,  into  which  they  had 
kicked  themselves  when  there  was  a  disturbance  among  them. 
One  crack  of  the  whip  from  the  driver  who  had  tethered 
them  after  a  march,  accompanied  by  a  plain  statement  of  his 
opinion  of  such  "fools,"  would  send  the  whole  collection 
wide  apart,  and  it  was  but  a  twinkling  before  they  extricated 
themselves  from  what  I  thought  a  hopeless  mess.  No  chains 
or  straps  were  broken,  and  a  meek,  subdued  look  pervading 
the  group  left  not  a  trace  of  the  active  heels  that  a  moment 
before  had  filled  the  air.  "  There,"  the  General  used  to  say, 
"  don't  ever  flatter  yourself  again' that  a  mule  hasn't  sense. 
He's  got  more  wisdom  than  half  the  horses  in  the  line."  It 
took  a  good  while  to  convince  me,  as  a  more  logy-looking 
animal  can  hardly  be  found  than  the  army  mule,  which 
never  in  his  existence  is  expected  to  go  off  from  a  walk,  or 
to  vary  his  life,  from  the  day  he  is  first  harnessed  until  he 
drops  by  the  way,  old  or  exhausted. 

At  the  time  we  were  first  on  the  Plains,  many  of  the 
teamsters  were  Mexicans,  short,  swarthy,  dull,  and  hardly  a 
grade  above  the  animal.  The  only  ambition  of  these  crea- 
tures seemed  to  be  to  vie  with  one  another  as  to  who  could 
snap  the  huge  "  black-snake  "  the  loudest.  They  learned  to 
whisk  the  thong  at  the  end  around  the  ears  of  a  shirking  off 
leader,  and  crack  the  lash  with  such  an  explosive  sound  that 
I  never  got  over  jumping  in  my  whole  Plains  life.  I  am  sorry 
to  say  my  high-strung  horse  usually  responded  with  a  spring 
that  sent  me  into  thin  air  anywhere  between  his  ears  and  his 
tail,  with  a  good  deal  of  uncertainty  as  to  where  I  should  alight. 
I  suspect  it  was  an  innocent  little  amusement  of  the  drivers, 


WESTWARD    HO  !  22/ 

when  occasionally  we  remained  behind  at  nooning,  and  had 
to  ride  swiftly  by  the  long  train  to  reach  the  head  of  the  column. 
The  prairie-schooner  disappeared  with  the  advancing  rail- 
road ;  but  I  am  glad  to  see  that  General  Meigs  has  perpetu- 
ated its  memory,  by  causing  this  old  means  of  transportation 
to  be  made  one  of  the  designs  in  the  beautiful  frieze  carved 
around  the  outside  of  the  Pension  Office  at  Washington. 
Ungainly  and  cumbersome  as  these  wagons  were,  they  merit 
some  such  monument,  as  part  of  the  history  of  the  early  days 
of  frontier  life  in  our  country.  We  were  in  the  West  several 
years  before  the  railroad  was  completed  to  Denver,  and  the 
'overland  trains  became  an  every-day  sight  to  us.  Citizens 
used  oxen  a  great  deal  for  transportation,  and  there  is  no 
picture  that  represents  the  weariness  and  laggard  progress  of 
life  like  an  ox-train  bound  for  Santa  Fe  or  Denver.  The 
prairie-schooner  might  set  out  freshly  painted,  or  perhaps 
washed  in  a  creek,  but  it  soon  became  gray  with  layer  upon 
layer  of  alkali  dust.  The  oxen — well,  nothing  save  a  snail 
can  move  more  slowly,  and  the  exhaustion  of  these  beasts, 
after  weeks  of  uninterrupted  travel,  was  pitiful.  Imagine, 
also,  the  unending  vigil  when  the  trains  were  insecurely 
guarded  ;  for  in  those  days  there  was  an  immense  unprotected 
frontier,  and  seemingly  only  a  handful  of  cavalry.  The  regi- 
ments looked  well  on  the  roster,  but  there  were  in  reality  but 
few  men.  A  regiment  should  number  twelve  hundred  en- 
listed men  ;  but  at  no  time,  unless  during  the  war,  does  the 
recruiting  officer  attempt  to  fill  it  to  the  maximum  ;  seventy 
men  to  a  company  is  a  large  number.  The  desertions  during 
the  first  years  of  the  reorganization  of  the  army  after  the 
war  thinned  the  ranks  constantly.  Recruits  could  not  be 
sent  out  fast  enough  to  fill  up  the  companies.  The  conse- 
quence was,  that  all  those  many  hundred  miles  of  trail  where 
the  Government  undertook  to  protect  citizens  who  carried 
supplies  to  settlements  and  the  mines,  as  well  as  its  own  trains 
of  material  for  building  new  posts,  and  commissary  and 
quartermaster's  stores  for  troops,  were  terribly  exposed  and 
very  poorly  protected. 


228  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

"The  Indians  were,  unfortunately,  located  on  the  great 
highway  of  Western  travel  ;  and  commerce,  not  less  than 
emigration,  demanded  their  removal."  There  are  many 
conflicting  opinions  as  to  the  course  pursued  to  clear  the  way  ; 
but  I  only  wish  to  speak  now  of  the  impression  the  trains 
made  upon  me,  as  we  constantly  saw  the  long,  dusty,  ex- 
hausted-looking column  wending  its  serpentine  way  over  the 
sun-baked  earth.  A  group  of  cavalry,  with  their  drooping 
horses,  rode  in  front  and  at  the  rear.  The  wagon-master  was 
usually  the  very  quintessence  of  valor,  It  is  true  he  formed 
such  a  habit  of  shooting  that  he  grew  indiscriminate,  and 
should  any  of  the  lawless  desperadoes  whom  he  hired  as 
teamsters  or  trainmen  ruffle  his  blood,  kept  up  to  boiling- 
heat  by  suspense,  physical  exposure,  and  exasperating  em- 
ployees, he  knew  no  way  of  settling  troubles  except  the 
effectual  quietus  that  a  bullet  secures.  I  well  remember  my 
husband  and  Tom,  who  dearly  loved  to  raise  my  indignation, 
and  create  signs  of  horror  and  detestation  at  their  tales, 
walking  me  down  to  the  Government  train  to  see  a  wagon- 
master  who  had  shot  five  men.  He  had  emigrated  from  the 
spot  where  he  bade  fair  to  establish  a  private  cemetery  with 
his  victims.  No  one  needed  a  reason  for  his  sudden  appear- 
ance after  the  number  of  his  slain  was  known.  And  yet  no 
questions  were  put  as  to  his  past.  He  made  a  capital  wagon- 
master  ;  he  was  obedient  to  his  superiors,  faithful,  and  on 
time  every  morning,  and  the  prestige  of  his  past  record  an- 
swered so  well  with  the  citizen  employees,  that  his  pistol  re- 
mained unused  in  the  holster. 

It  seemed  to  be  expected  that  the  train-master  would  be  a 
villain.  Whatever  was  their  record  as  to  the  manner  of  ar- 
ranging private  disputes,  a  braver  class  of  men  never  followed 
a  trail,  and  some  of  them  were  far  superior  to  their  chance 
lot.  Their  tender  care  of  women  who  crossed  in  these  slow- 
moving  ox-trains,  to  join  their  husbands,  ought  to  be  com- 
memorated. I  have  somewhere  read  one  of  their  remarks 
when  a  girl,  going  to  her  mother,  had  been  secreted  in  a 
private  wagon  and  there  was  no  knowledge  of  her  presence 


WESTWARD    HO! 


until  the  Indians  were  discovered  to  be  near.  "  Tain't  no 
time  to  be  teamin'  women  folks  over  the  trail  with  sech  a 
fearsom  sperit  for  Injuns  as  I  be."  He,  like  some  of  the 
bravest  men  I  have  known,  spoke  of  himself  as  timid,  while 
he  knew  no  fear.  It  certainly  unnerved  the  most  valiant 
man  when  Indians  were  lurking  near,  to  realize  the  fate  that 
hung  over  women  entrusted  to  their  care.  In  a  later  portion 
of  my  story  occurs  an  instance  of  an  officer  hiding  the  woman 
whose  husband  had  asked  him  to  take  her  into  the  States, 
even  before  firing  a  shot  at  the  adversary,  as  he  knew  with 
what  redoubled  ferocity  the  savage  would  fight,  at  sight  of 
the  white  face  of  a  woman.  It  makes  the  heart  beat,  even 
to  look  at  a  picture  of  the  old  mode  of  traversing  the  high- 
way of  Western  travel.  The  sight  of  the  pictured  train, 
seemingly  so  peacefully  lumbering  on  its  sleepy  way,  the 
scarcely  revolving  wheels,  creaking  out  a  protest  against  even 
that  effort,  recalls  the  agony,  the  suspense,  the  horror  with 
which  every  inch  of  that  long  route  has  been  made.  The 
heaps  of  stones  by  the  wayside,  or  the  buffalo  bones,  collected 
to  mark  the  spot  where  some  man  fell  from  an  Indian  arrow, 
are  now  disappearing.  The  hurricanes  beating  upon  the 
hastily  prepared  memorials  have  scattered  the  bleached  bones 
of  the  bison,  and  rolled  into  the  tufted  grass  the  few  stones 
with  which  the  train-men,  at  risk  of  their  own  lives,  have  de- 
layed long  enough  to  mark  their  comrade's  grave. 

The  faded  photographs  or  the  old  prints  of  those  overland 
trains  speak  to  me  but  one  story.  Instantly  I  recall  the 
hourly  vigilance,  the  restless  eyes  scanning  the  horizon,  the 
breathless  suspense,  when  the  pioneers  or  soldiers  knew  from 
unmistakable  signs  that  the  Indian  was  lying  in  wait.  In 
what  contrast  to  the  dull,  logy,  scarcely  moving  oxen  were 
these  keen-eyed  heroes,  with  every  nerve  strained,  every 
sense  on  the  alert.  And  how  they  were  maddened  by  the 
fate  that  consigned  them,  at  such  moments,  to  the  mercy  of 
"dull,  driven  cattle."  When  I  have  seen  officers  and  soldiers 
lay  their  hands  lovingly  on  the  neck  of  their  favorite  horse, 
and  perhaps,  when  no  one  was  near  to  scoff  at  sentiment, 


230  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

say  to  me,  "  He  saved  my  life,"  I  knew  well  what  a  man  felt 
when  his  horse  took  fire  at  knowledge  of  danger  to  his  rider 
and  sped  on  the  wings  of  the  wind,  till  he  was  lost  to  his  pur- 
suers, a  tiny  black  speck  on  the  horizon.  The  pathos  of  a 
soldier's  parting  with  his  horse  moved  us  to  quick  sympathy. 
It  often  happens  that  a  trooper  retains  the  same  animal 
through  his  entire  enlistment,  and  it  comes  to  be  his  most 
intimate  friend.  There  is  nothing  he  will  not  do  to  provide 
him  with  food  ;  if  the  forage  runs  low  or  the  grazing  is  in- 
sufficient, stealing  for  his  horse  is  reckoned  a  virtue  among 
soldiers.  Imagine,  then,  the  anxiety,  the  real  suffering,  with 
which  a  soldier  watches  his  faithful  beast  growing  weaker  day 
by  day,  from  exhaustion  or  partial  starvation.  He  walks  be- 
side him  to  spare  his  strength,  and  finally,  when  it  is  no 
longer  possible  to  keep  up  with  the  column,  and  the  soldier 
knows  how  fatal  the  least  delay  may  be  in  an  Indian  coun- 
try, it  is  more  pitiful  than  almost  any  sight  I  recall,  the  sad- 
ness of  his  departure  from  the  skeleton,  whose  eyes  follow  his 
master  in  wondering  affection,  as  he  walks  away  with  the 
saddle  and  accoutrements.  It  is  the  most  merciful  farewell 
if  a  bullet  is  lodged  in  the  brain  of  the  famished  or  exhausted 
beast,  but  some  one  else  than  his  sorrowing  master  has  to 
do  the  trying  deed. 

This  is  not  the  last  act  in  the  harrowing  scene.  The  sol- 
dier overtakes  the  column,  loaded  down  with  his  saddle,  if 
the  train  is  too  far  away  to  deposit  it  in  the  company  wagon. 
Then  begins  a  tirade  of  annoying  comments  to  this  man,  still 
grieving  over  the  parting  with  his  best  friend.  No  one  can 
conceive  what  sarcasm  and  wit  can  proceed  from  a  column 
of  cavalry.  Many  of  the  men  are  Irish,  and  their  reputation 
for  humor  is  world-wide.  "  Hullo,  there  !  joined  the  doe- 
boys,  eh?"  "  How  do  you  like  hoofing  it?"  are  tame  speci- 
mens of  the  remarks  from  these  tormenting  tongues  ;  such  a 
fusillade  of  sneers  is  followed  not  long  after  by  perhaps  the 
one  most  gibing  of  all  flinging  himself  off  from  his  horse, 
and  giving  his  mount  to  the  one  he  has  done  his  best  to  stir 
into  wrath.  A  cavalryman  hates,  beyond  any  telling,  en- 


WESTWARD    HO!  23! 

forced  pedestrianism,  and  "  Share  and  share  alike  "  is  a  motto 
that  our  Western  soldiers  keep  in  use. 

If  the  wagons  held  merchandise  only,  by  which  the  pioneer 
hoped  to  grow  rich,  the  risk  and  suspense  attending  these 
endless  marches  were  not  worth  commemorating  ;  but  the 
bulk  of  the  freight  was  the  actual  necessities  of  life.  Con- 
ceive, if  you  can,  how  these  brave  men  felt  themselves  chain- 
ed, as  they  drove  or  guarded  the  food  for  those  living  far  in 
advance.  There  were  not  enough  to  admit  of  a  charge  on  the 
enemy,  and  the  defensive  is  an  exasperating  position  for  a 
soldier  or  frontiersman.  He  longs  to  advance  on  the  foe  ; 
but  no  such  privilege  was  allowed  them,  for  in  these  toilsome 
journeys  they  had  often  to  use  precautions  to  hide  themselves. 
If  Indians  were  discovered  to  be  roaming  near,  the  camp  was 
established,  trains  corralled,  animals  secured  inside  a  tempo- 
rary stockade  ;  the  fires  for  coffee  were  forbidden,  for  smoke 
rises  like  a  funnel,  and  hangs  out  an  instant  signal  in  that 
clear  air.  Even  the  consoling  pipe  was  smoked  under  a 
sage-bush  or  in  a  hollow,  if  there  happened  to  be  a  depression 
of  the  ground.  Few  words  were  spoken,  the  loud  oaths  sank 
into  low  mutterings,  and  the  bray  of  a  hungry  mule,  the 
clank  of  wagon-chains,  or  the  stamping  of  cattle  on  the  baked 
earth,  sounded  like  thunder  in  the  ears  of  the  anxious,  ex- 
pectant men. 

Fortunately,  our  journey  in  these  trains  was  not  at*  once 
forced  upon  us  at  Leavenworth.  The  Kansas  Pacific  Rail- 
road, projected  to  Denver,  was  built  within  ten  miles  of  Fort 
Riley,  and  it  was  to  be  the  future  duty  of  the  Seventh  Cav- 
alry to  guard  the  engineers  in  building  the  remainder  of  the 
road  out  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  It  did  not  take  us  long 
to  purchase  an  outfit  in  the  shops,  for,  as  usual,  our  finances 
were  low,  and  consequently  our  wants  were  curtailed.  We 
had  the  sense  to  listen  to  a  hint  from  some  practical  officer 
who  had  been  far  beyond  railroads,  and  buy  a  cook-stove  the 
first  thing,  and  this  proved  to  be  the  most  important  of  our 
possessions  when  we  reached  our  post,  so  far  from  the  land 
of  shops.  Not  many  hours  after  we  left  Leavenworth,  the 


232  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

settlements  became  farther  and  farther  apart,  and  we  began 
to  realize  that  we  were  actual  pioneers.  Kansas  City  was 
then  but  a  small  town,  seemingly  with  a  hopeless  future,  as 
the  bluffs  rose  so  steeply  from  the  river,  and  even  when  the 
summit  was  reached,  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  streets  were 
discouraging.  It  seemed,  then,  as  if  it  would  never  be  worth 
while  to  use  it  as  a  site  for  a  town ;  there  would  be  a  lifetime 
of  grading.  It  is  very  easy  to  become  a  city  forefather  in 
such  a  town,  for  in  the  twenty-one  years  since  then,  it  has 
grown  into  a  city  of  over  132,000  inhabitants — but  they  are 
still  grading.  The  lots  which  we  could  have  had  almost  for 
the  asking,  sell  now  for  $1,000  a  front  foot.  Topeka,  the 
capital,  showed  no  evidence  of  its  importance,  except  the  lit- 
tle circle  of  stars  that  surrounded  it  on  our  atlas.  There 
were  but  three  towns  beyond  Fort  Rileythen,  and  those  were 
built,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  of  canvas  and  dug-outs. 

Our  railroad  journey  came  to  an  end  about  ten  miles  from 
Fort  Riley.  The  laborers  were  laying  track  from  that  point. 
It  had  been  a  sort  of  gala  day,  for  General  Sherman,  on  one 
of  his  tours  of  inspection  of  the  frontier  posts,  had  been 
asked  by  railroad  officials  to  drive  the  final  spike  of  the  di- 
vision of  the  road  then  finished.  We  found  a  wagon  waiting 
for  our  luggage,  and  an  ambulance  to  carry  us  the  rest  of  the 
journey.  These  vehicles  are  not  uncomfortable  when  the 
long*  seats  on  either  side  are  so  arranged  that  they  make  a 
bed  for  the  ill  or  wounded  by  spreading  them  out,  but  as 
traveling  conveyances  I  could  not  call  them  a  success.  The 
seats  are  narrow,  with  no  back  to  speak  of,  and  covered  with 
carriage-cloth,  which  can  keep  you  occupied,  if  the  country 
is  rough,  in  regaining  the  slippery  surface  for  any  number  of 
miles  at  a  stretch.  Fort  Riley  came  in  sight  when  we  were 
pretty  well  tired  out.  It  was  my  first  view  of  a  frontier  post. 
I  had  either  been  afraid  to  confess  my  ignorance,  or  so  as- 
sured there  was  but  one  variety  of  fort,  and  the  subject  needed  no 
investigation,  that  Fort  Riley  came  upon  me  as  a  great  surprise. 
I  supposed,  of  course,  it  would  be  exactly  like  Fortress  Mon- 
roe, with  stone  walls,  turrets  for  the  sentinels,  and  a  deep 


WESTWARD    HO!  233 

moat.  As  I  had  heard  more  and  more  about  Indians  since 
reaching  Kansas,  a  vision  of  the  enclosure  where  we  would 
eventually  live  was  a  great  comfort  to  me.  I  could  scarcely 
believe  that  the  buildings,  a  story  and  a  half  high,  placed 
around  a  parade-ground,  were  all  there  was  of  Fort  Riley. 
The  sutler's  store,  the  quartermaster  and  commissary  store- 
houses, and  the  stables  for  the  cavalry  horses,  were  outside 
the  square,  near  the  post,  and  that  was  all.  No  trees,  and 
hardly  any  signs  of  vegetation  except  the  buffalo-grass  that 
curled  its  sweet  blades  close  to  the  ground,  as  if  to  protect 
the  nourishment  it  held  from  the  blazing  sun.  The  post  was 
beautifully  situated  on  a  wide  plateau,  at  the  junction  of  the 
Republican  and  Smoky  Hill  rivers.  The  Plains,  as  they 
waved  away  on  all  sides  of  us,  like  the  surface  of  a  vast  ocean, 
had  the  charm  of  great  novelty,  and  the  absence  of  trees  was 
at  first  forgotten  in  the  fascination  of  seeing  such  an  im- 
mense stretch  of  country,  with  the  soft  undulations  of  green 
turf  rolling  on,  seemingly,  to  the  setting  sun.  The  eye  was 
relieved  by  the  fringe  of  cottonwood  that  bordered  the 
rivers  below  us. 

Though  we  came  afterward  to  know,  on  toilsome  marches  un- 
der the  sweltering  sun,  when  that  orb  was  sometimes  not  even 
hidden  for  one  moment  in  the  day  by  a  grateful  cloud,  but  the 
sky  was  spread  over  as  a  vast  canopy  of  dazzling  blue,  that 
enthusiasm  would  not  outlast  such  trials,  still,  a  rarely  exult- 
ant feeling  takes  possession  of  one  in  the  gallops  over  the 
Plains,  when  in  early  spring  they  are  a  trackless  sea  of  soft 
verdure.  And  the  enthusiasm  returns  when  the  campaign 
for  the  summer  is  over,  and  riding  is  taken  up  for  pleasure. 
My  husband  was  full  of  delight  over  the  exquisite  haze  that 
covered  the  land  with  a  faint  purple  light,  and  exclaimed, 
"Now  I  begin  to  realize  what  all  that  transparent  veil  of 
faint  color  means  in  Bierstadt's  paintings  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  the  West."  But  we  had  little  time  to  take 
in  atmospheric  effects,  as  evening  was  coming  on  and  we  were 
yet  to  be  housed,  while  servants,  horses,  dogs  and  all  of  us 
were  hungry  after  our  long  drive.  The  General  halted  the 


234  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

wagon  outside  the  post,  and  left  us  to  go  and  report  to  the 
commanding  officer. 

At  that  time  I  knew  nothing  of  the  hospitality  of  a  frontier 
post,  and  I  begged  to  remain  in  the  wagon  until  our  quarters 
were  assigned  us  in  the  garrison.  Up  to  this  time  we  had 
all  been  in  splendid  spirits;  the  novelty,  the  lovely  day  and 
exhilarating  air,  and  all  the  possibilities  of  a  future  with  a 
house  of  our  own,  or,  rather,  one  lent  to  us  by  Uncle  Sam, 
seemed  to  fill  up  a  delightful  cup  to  the  brim.  We  sat  out- 
side the  post  so  long — at  least  it  seemed  so  to  us — and  grew 
hungrier  and  thirstier,  that  there  were  evident  signs  of  mu- 
tiny. The  truth  is,  whenever  the  General  was  with  us,  with 
his  determination  of  thinking  that  nothing  could  exceed  his 
surroundings,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  look  upon  anything 
except  in  the  light  that  he  did.  He  gave  color  to  everything, 
with  his  hopeful  views.  Eliza  sat  on  the  seat  with  the  driver, 
and  both  muttered  occasional  hungry  words,  but  our  Diana 
and  I  had  the  worst  of  it.  We  had  bumped  over  the  coun- 
try, sometimes  violently  jammed  against  the  framework  of 
the  canvas  cover,  and  most  of  the  time  sliding  off  from  the 
slippery  cushions  upon  the  insulted  dogs — for  of  course  the 
General  had  begged  a  place  for  two  of  them.  He  had  kept 
them  in  order  all  the  way  from  the  termination  of  the  rail- 
road; but  now  that  he  was  absent,  Turk  and  Byron  renewed 
hostilities,  and  in  the  narrow  space  they  scrambled  and 
snarled  and  sprang  at  each  other.  When  the  General  came 
back  he  found  the  little  hands  of  our  curly-headed  girl 
clenched  over  the  collar  of  Byron  at  one  end  of  the  ambu- 
lance, while  Turk  sat  on  my  lap,  swelling  with  rage  because 
my  fingers  were  twisted  in  the  chain  that  held  him,  as  I  sat 
at  the  door  shaking  with  terror.  It  was  quick  work  to  jerk 
the  burly  brute  out  of  the  door,  and  end  our  troubles  for  the 
time;  but  the  General,  after  quieting  our  panic,  threw  us  into 
a  new  one  by  saying  we  must  make  up  our  minds  to  be  the 
guests  of  the  commanding  officer.  Tired,  travel-stained,  and 
unaccustomed  to  what  afterward  became  comparatively  easy, 
we  were  driven  to  one  of  the  quarters  and  made  our  entrance 


WESTWARD    HO!  235 

among  strangers.  I  then  realized,  for  the  first  time,  that  we 
had  reached  a  spot  where  the  comforts  of  life  could  not  be 
had  for  love  or  money. 

It  is  a  strange  sensation  to  arrive  at  a  place  where  money 
is  of  little  use  in  providing  shelter,  and  here  we  were  beyond 
even  the  commonest  railroad  hotel.  Mrs.  Gibbs,  who  re- 
ceived us,  was  put  to  a  severe  test  that  night.  Already  a 
room  in  her  small  house  had  been  prepared  for  General  Sher- 
man, who  had  arrived  earlier  in  the  day,  and  now  there  were 
five  of  us  bearing  down  upon  her.  I  told  her  how  I  had 
begged  to  be  allowed  to  go  into  quarters,  even  though  there 
were  no  preparations,  not  even  a  fireplace  where  Eliza  could 
have  cooked  us  food  enough  over  the  coals  to  stay  hunger; 
but  she  assured  me  that,  having  been  on  the  Plains  before  the 
war,  she  was  quite  accustomed  to  a  state  of  affairs  where 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  quarter  yourself  upon  strangers; 
and  then  gave  up  her  own  room  to  our  use.  From  that 
night — which  was  a  real  trial  to  me,  because  I  felt  so  keenly 
the  trouble  we  caused  them  all — dates  the  beginning  of  a 
friendship  that  has  lasted  through  the  darkest  as  well  as  the 
brightest  hours  of  my  life.  I  used  to  try  to  remember  after- 
ward, when  for  nine  years  we  received  and  entertained 
strangers  who  had  nowhere  else  to  go,  the  example  of  undis- 
turbed hospitality  shown  me  by  my  first  friend  on  the  frontier. 

The  next  day  my  husband  assumed  command  of  the  garri- 
son, and  our  few  effects  were  moved  into  a  large  double 
house  built  for  the  commanding  officer.  There  were  parlors 
on  one  side,  whose  huge  folding  doors  were  flung  open,  and 
made  our  few  articles  of  furniture  look  lonely  and  meagre. 
We  had  but  six  wooden  chairs  to  begin  with,  and  when,  a 
few  miles  more  of  the  railroad  being  completed,  a  party  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  excursionists  arrived,  I  seated  six  of 
them — yes,  seven,  for  one  was  tired  enough  to  sit  on  a  trunk 
— and  then  concluded  I  would  own  up  that  in  the  larger 
rooms  of  the  house,  into  which  they  looked  significantly, 
there  were  no  more  chairs  concealed.  I  had  done  my  best, 
and  tried  to  make  up  for  not  seating  or  feeding  them,  by  very 


236  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

busy  talking.  Meanwhile  there  were  incessant  inquiries  for 
the  General.  It  seems  that  he  had  begun  that  little  trick  of 
hiding  from  strangers,  even  then.  He  had  seen  the  advanc- 
ing column  of  tourists,  and  fled.  One  of  the  servants  finally 
unearthed  him,  and  after  they  had  gone  and  he  found  that  I 
had  been  so  troubled  to  think  I  could  do  nothing  for  the 
citizens,  and  so  worried  because  he  was  non  est,  he  did  not 
leave  me  in  such  strait  again  until  I  had  learned  to  adapt  my- 
self to  the  customs  of  the  country  where  the  maxim  that 
"every  man's  house  is  his  castle "  is  a  fallacy. 

The  officers  who  had  garrisoned  the  post  began  to  move 
out  as  our  own  Seventh  Cavalry  officers  reported  for  duty. 
The  colonel  of  the  regiment  arrived,  and  ranked  us  out  of  our 
quarters,  in  this  instance  much  to  our  relief,  as  the  barrack  of 
a  building  would  never  fill  up  from  the  slow  rate  at  which  our 
belongings  increased.  This  army  regulation,  to  which  I  have 
elsewhere  referred,  was  then  new  to  me.  The  manner  in 
which  the  Government  sees  fit  to  arrange  quarters  is  still 
amusing  to  me,  but  I  suppose  no  better  plan  has  ever  been 
thought  out.  In  the  beginning  of  a  well-built  post,  there  is 
but  little  choice.  It  is  the  aim  to  make  the  houses,  except 
that  of  the  commanding  officer,  exactly  alike.  From  time  to 
time  new  quarters  are  built.  The  original  plan  is  not  follow- 
ed; possibly  a  few  improvements  are  added  to  the  newer 
houses.  Ah!  then  the  disturbance  ensues!  Fort  Vancouver, 
in  Washington  Territory,  is  one  of  the  old  posts,  quite  inter- 
esting from  the  heterogeneous  collection  of  quarters  added 
through  fifty  years.  I  was  spending  a  day  or  two,  in  1875, 
with  my  husband's  niece,  whose  husband  was  some  distance 
down  on  the  list,  and  consequently  occupied  a  low  log  build- 
ing, that  dated  back  no  one  knows  how  far.  Even  in  that 
little  cabin  they  were  insecure,  for  in  reply  to  my  question, 
"Surely  you  are  permanently  fixed,  and  won't  be  moved," 
they  pathetically  answered:  "Not  by  any  means!  We  live 
from  hour  to  hour  in  uncertainty,  and  there  are  worse  quar- 
ters than  these,  which  we  walk  by  daily  with  dread,  as  — 
ranks  us,  and  he  is  going  to  be  married,  so  out  we  go!  " 


WESTWARD    HO!  237 

Assigning  quarters  according  to  rank  goes  on  smoothly  for 
a  time,  but  occasionally  an  officer  reports  for  duty  who  ranks 
everyone.  Not  long  ago  this  happened  at  a  distant  post,  and 
the  whole  line  went  down  like  a  row  of  bricks,  as  eight 
officers'  families  were  ousted  by  his  arrival,  the  lowest  in  rank 
having  to  move  out  one  of  the  non-commissioned  officers  who 
had  lived  in  a  little  cabin  with  two  rooms.  If  possible,  in 
choosing  a  time  to  visit  our  frontier  posts,  let  this  climax  of 
affairs  be  avoided.  Where  there  is  little  to  vary  life  the 
monotony  is  apt  to  be  deeply  stirred  by  private  rages,  which 
would  blow  away  in  smoke  if  there  was  anything  else  to  think 
of.  It  is  rather  harrowing  to  know  that  some  one  has  an 
eye  on  the  home  you  have  furnished  with  your  own  means. 
I  could  hardly  blame  a  man  I  knew,  who,  in  an  outburst  of 
wrath  concerning  an  officer  who  had  at  last  uprooted  him, 
secretly  rejoiced  that  a  small  room  that  had  been  the  object 
of  envy,  having  been  built  at  the  impoverished  post  of  refuse 
lumber  from  the  stables,  was  unendurable  on  a  warm  day; 
and  the  new  possessor  was  left  to  find  it  out  when  he  had 
settled  himself  in  the  coveted  house. 

After  our  quarters  were  chosen  by  the  Colonel,  we  took 
another  house,  of  moderate  size,  bought  a  few  pieces  of  fur- 
niture of  an  officer  leaving  the  post,  and  began  to  live  our 
first  homelike  life.  The  arrival  of  the  new  officers  was  for  a 
time  our  only  excitement.  Most  of  them  had  been  in  the 
volunteer  service,  and  knew  nothing  of  the  regular  army. 
There  was  no  one  to  play  practical  jokes  on  the  first  comers; 
but  they  had  made  some  ridiculous  errors  in  dress  and  de- 
portment, when  reporting  at  first,  and  they  longed  to  take 
out  their  mortification  at  these  harmless  mistakes,  by  laying 
pitfalls  for  the  verdant  ones  who  were  constantly  arriving. 
The  discipline  of  the  regular  army,  and  the  punctilious  ob- 
servance compelling  the  wearing  of  the  uniform,  was  some- 
thing totally  new  to  men  who  had  known  little  of  parades  in 
their  fighting  days  in  the  tented  field.  If  it  was  possible  to 
intimidate  a  new  officer  by  tales  of  the  strictness  of  the  com- 
manding officer  regarding  the  personal  appearance  of  his 


238  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

regiment,  they  did  so.  One  by  one,  those  who  had  preceded 
the  last  comer  called  in  to  pay  their  compliments;  but  by 
previous  agreement  they  one  and  all  dwelt  upon  the  neces- 
sity of  his  making  a  careful  toilet  before  he  approached  the 
august  presence  of  the  Lieutenant-colonel.  Then  one  or 
two  offered  carelessly  to  help  him  get  himself  up  for  the  oc- 
casion. Our  brother  Tom  had  arrived  by  this  time,  but  there 
was  nothing  to  be  made  out  of  him,  for  he  had  served  a  few 
months  with  a  regular  regiment  before  being  transferred  to 
ours.  He  was  therefore  sent  one  day  to  prepare  me  for  the 
call  of  an  officer  who  had  been  assisted  into  his  new  uniform 
by  the  mischievous  knot  of  men  who  had  been  longest  with 
us.  If  I  had  known  to  what  test  I  was  to  be  put  to  keep  my 
face  straight,  or  had  dreamed  what  a  gullible  creature  had 
come  into  their  roguish  hands,  I  would  not  have  consented 
to  receive  him.  But  it  was  one  of  the  imperative  roles  that 
each  officer,  after  reporting  for  duty,  must  pay  a  formal  visit 
to  the  commanding  officer  and  his  family.  I  went  into  the 
parlor  to  find  a  large,  and  at  that  time  awkward,  man,  in  full 
uniform,  which  was  undeniably  a  tight  fit  for  his  rather  portly 
figure.  He  wore  cavalry  boots,  the  first  singularity  I  noticed, 
for  they  had  such  expanse  of  top  I  could  not  help  seeing 
them.  They  are  of  course  out  of  order  with  a  dress  coat. 
The  red  sash,  which  was  then  en  regie  for  all  officers,  was 
spread  from  up  under  his  arms  to  as  far  below  the  waist  line 
as  its  elastic  silk  could  be  stretched.  The  sword-belt,  with 
sabre  attached,  surrounded  this;  and,  folded  over  the  wide 
red  front,  were  his  large  hands,  encased  in  white  cotton 
gloves.  He  never  moved  them;  nor  did  he  move  an  eyelash, 
so  far  as  I  could  discover,  though  it  seems  he  was  full  of  in- 
ternal tremors,  for  the  officers  had  told  him  on  no  account  to 
remove  his  regulation  hat.  At  this  he  demurred,  and  told 
them  I  would  surely  think  he  was  no  gentleman;  but  they 
assured  him  I  placed  military  etiquette  far  above  any  ordi- 
nary rule  for  manners  in  the  presence  of  ladies,  while  the  truth 
was  I  was  rather  indifferent  as  to  military  rules  of  dress.  As 
this  poor  man  sat  there,  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  a  child 


239 


240  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

who  is  so  carefully  dressed  in  new  furbelows  that  it  sits  as  if 
it  were  carved  out  of  wood,  for  fear  of  disarranging  the  fin- 
ished toilet.  Diana  made  an  almost  instant  excuse  to  leave 
the  room.  The  General's  mustache  quivered,  and  he  moved 
restlessly  around,  even  coming  again  to  shake  hands  with  the 
automaton  and  bid  him  welcome  to  the  regiment;  but  finally 
he  dashed  out  of  the  door  to  enjoy  the  outburst  of  mirth 
that  he  could  no  longer  control.  I  was  thus  left  to  meet  the 
situation  as  best  I  could,  but  was  not  as  fortunate  as  the  Gen- 
eral, who  had  a  friendly  mustache  to  curtain  the  quiver  in 
his  mouth.  The  poor  victim  apparently  recalled  to  himself 
the  martial  attitude  of  Washington  crossing  the  Delaware,  or 
Napoleon  at  Waterloo,  and  did  not  alter  the  first  position  he 
had  assumed.  In  trying  to  prevent  him  from  seeing  my  con- 
fusion, I  redoubled  my  efforts  to  entertain  him,  and  succeed- 
ed only  too  well,  for  when  he  slowly  moved  out  of  the  door 
I  found  myself  tired  out,  and  full  of  wrath  toward  my  return- 
ing family.  I  never  could  remember  that  these  little  spurts 
of  rage  were  the  primest  fun  for  my  people.  The  poor  offi- 
cer who  had  been  so  guyed  did  not  gratify  his  tormentors  by 
getting  angry,  but  fell  to  planning  new  mischief  for  the  next 
arrival.  He  lost  no  time  in  begging  my  pardon  for  the  hat, 
and  though  I  never  saw  much  of  him  afterward,  he  left  only 
pleasant  impressions  on  my  mind  of  a  kind-hearted  man,  and 
one  of  those  rare  beings  who  knew  how  to  take  a  joke. 

We  derived  great  pleasure  from  our  horses  and  dogs  during 
the  autumn.  A  very  pretty  sorrel  horse  was  selected  for 
Diana,  but  we  had  little  opportunity  to  have  her  for  a  com- 
panion. The  young  officers  engaged  her  a  week  in  advance, 
and  about  all  we  saw  of  her  riding  was  an  avalanche  of  flying 
curls  as  she  galloped  off  beside  some  dashing  cavalier.  I  re- 
member once,  when  she  was  engaged  otherwise,  and  my 
horse  temporarily  disabled,  I  took  hers,  and  my  husband  kept 
begging  me  to  guide  the  animal  better,  for  it  was  nettling  his 
fiery  beast  by  insisting  upon  too  close  proximity.  It  finally 
dawned  upon  us  that  the  little  horse  was  a  constitutional 
snuggler,  and  we  gave  up  trying  to  teach  him  new  tricks. 


WESTWARD    HO!  24! 

But  how  the  General  shouted,  and  bent  himself  forward  and 
back  in  his  saddle,  after  the  horse  had  almost  crushed  his 
leg  and  nothing  would  keep  him  at  a  distance.  He  could 
hardly  wait  to  get  back  to  garrison,  and  when  we  did,  he 
walked  into  the  midst  of  a  collection  of  the  beaux  and  told 
the  whole  story  of  how  dreadfully  demoralized  a  cavalry 
horse  in  good  and  regular  standing  could  become,  in  the 
hands  of  a  belle.  The  girl  blushed,  and  the  officers  joined 
in  the  laughter,  and  yet  every  one  of  them  had  doubtless 
been  busy  in  teaching  that  little  telltale  animal  this  new  de- 
velopment of  character. 

It  was  delightful  ground  to  ride  over  about  Fort  Riley. 
Ah!  what  happy  days  they  were,  for  at  that  time  I  had  not 
the  slightest  realization  of  what  Indian  warfare  was,  and  con- 
sequently no  dread.  We  knew  that  the  country  they  infest- 
ed was  many  miles  away,  and  we  could  ride  in  any  direction 
we  chose.  The  dogs  would  be  aroused  from  the  deepest 
sleep  at  the  very  sight  of  our  riding  costumes,  and  by  the 
time  we  were  well  into  them  and  whip  in  hand,  they  leaped 
and  sprang  about  the  room,  tore  out  on  the  gallery,  and 
tumbled  over  one  another  and  the  furniture  in  racing  back, 
and  such  a  din  of  barking  and  joyful  whining  as  they  set  up 
— the  noisier  the  better  for  my  husband.  He  snapped  his 
whip  to  incite  them,  and  bounded  around  crying  out, 
"Whoop  'em  up!  whoop  'em  up! "  adding  to  the  melee  by  a 
toot  on  the  dog-horn  he  had  brought  from  the  Texas  deer- 
hunts.  All  this  excited  the  horses,  and  when  I  was  tossed 
into  the  saddle  amidst  this  turmoil,  with  the  dogs  leaping 
around  the  horses'  heads,  I  hardly  knew  whether  I  was  my- 
self or  the  venturesome  young  woman  who  spends  her  life  in 
taking  airy  flights  through  paper-covered  circles  in  a  saw- 
dust ring.  It  took  some  years  for  me  to  accustom  myself  to 
the  wild  din  and  hubbub  of  our  starting  for  a  ride  or  a  hunt. 
As  I  have  said  before,  I  had  lived  quietly  at  home,  and  my 
decorous,  suppressed  father  and  mother  never  even  spoke 
above  a  certain  tone.  The  General's  father,  on  the  con- 
trary, had  rallied  his  sons  with  a  hallo  and  resounding  shouts 


242  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

from  their  childhood.  So  the  hullabaloo  of  all  our  merry 
startings  was  a  thing  of  my  husband's  early  days,  and  added 
zest  to  every  sport  he  undertook. 

Coming  from  Michican,  where  there  is  a  liberal  dispensa- 
tion of  swamp  and  quagmire,  having  been  taught  by  dear  ex- 
perience that  Virginia  had  quicksands  and  sloughs  into  which 
one  could  disappear  with  great  rapidity,  and  finally,  having 
experienced  Texas  with  its  bayous,  baked  with  a  deceiving 
crust  of  mud,  and  its  rivers  with  quicksand  beds,  very  natural- 
ly I  guided  my  horse  around  any  lands  that  had  even  a  de- 
pression. Indeed,  he  spoke  volumes  with  his  sensitive  ears, 
as  the  turf  darkened  in  hollows,  and  was  ready  enough  to  be 
guided  by  the  rein  on  his  satin-like  neck,  to  the  safer  ground. 
It  was  a  long  time  before  I  realized  that  all  the  Plains  were 
safe.  We  chose  no  path,  and  stopped  at  no  suspicion  of  a 
slough.  Without  a  check  on  the  rein,  we  flew  over  divide 
after  divide,  and  it  is  beyond  my  pen  to  describe  the  wild 
sense  of  freedom  that  takes  possession  of  one  in  the  first 
buoyant  knowledge  that  no  impediment,  seemingly,  lies  be- 
tween you  and  the  setting  sun.  After  one  has  ridden  over 
conventional  highways,  the  beaten  path  marked  out  by 
fences,  hedges,  bridges,  etc.,  it  is  simply  an  impossibility  to 
describe  how  the  blood  bounds  in  the  veins  at  the  freedom 
of  an  illimitable  sea.  No  spongy,  uncertain  ground  checks 
the  course  over  the  Plains;  it  is  seldom  even  damp,  and  the 
air  is  so  exhilarating  one  feels  as  if  he  had  never  breathed  a 
full  breath  before.  Almost  the  first  words  General  Sherman 
said  to  me  out  there  were,  "  Child,  you'll  find  the  air  of  the 
Plains  is  like  champagne,"  and  so  it  surely  was.  Oh,  the  joy 
of  taking  in  air  without  a  taint  of  the  city,  or  even  the  coun- 
try, as  we  know  it  in  farm  life!  As  we  rode  on,  speaking 
enthusiastically  of  the  fragrance  and  purity  of  the  atmosphere, 
our  horses  neighed  and  whinnied  to  each  other,  and  snuffed 
the  air,  as  if  approving  all  that  was  said  of  that  "  land  of  the 
free."  My  husband  could  hardly  breathe,  from  the  very 
ecstasy  of  realizing  that  nothing  trammeled  him.  He  scarce- 
ly left  the  garrison  behind  him,  where  he  was  bound  by  chains 


WESTWARD    HO!  243 

of  form  and  ceremony — the  inevitable  lot  of  an  officer,  where 
all  his  acts  are  under  surveillance,  where  he  is  obliged  to 
know  that  every  hour  in  the  day  he  is  setting  an  example — 
before  he  became  the  wildest  and  most  frolicsome  of  light- 
hearted  boys.  His  horse  and  he  were  one,  not  only  as  he  sat 
in  the  saddle,  a  part  of  the  animal,  swayed  by  every  motion 
of  the  active,  graceful  beast,  but  such  unison  of  spirit  took 
possession  of  each,  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  a  human  heart 
did  not  beat  under  the  broad,  splendid  chest  of  the  high- 
strung  animal. 

It  were  well  if  human  hearts  responded  to  our  fondness, 
and  came  instantly  to  be  en  rapport  with  us,  as  did  those 
dear  animals  when  they  flew  with  us  out  to  freedom  and 
frolic,  over  the  divides  that  screened  us  from  the  conventional 
proprieties.  My  husband's  horse  had  almost  human  ways  of 
talking  with  him,  as  he  leaned  far  out  of  the  saddle  and  laid 
his  face  on  the  gallant  animal's  head,  and  there  was  a  gleam 
in  the  eye,  a  proud  little  toss  of  the  head,  speaking  back  a 
whole  world  of  affection.  The  General  could  ride  hanging 
quite  out  of  sight  from  the  opposite  side,  one  foot  caught  in 
the  stirrup,  his  hand  on  the  mane;  and  it  made  no  difference 
to  his  beloved  friend,  he  took  any  mode  that  his  master  chose 
to  cling  to  him  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  curveted  and 
pranced  in  the  loftiest,  proudest  way.  His  manner  said  as 
plainly  as  speech,  "See  what  we  two  can  do!"  I  rarely 
knew  him  to  have  a  horse  that  did  not  soon  become  so  per- 
vaded with  his  spirit  that  they  appeared  to  be  absolutely  one 
in  feeling.  I  was  obliged,  usually,  to  submit  to  some  banter- 
ing slur  on  my  splendid  Custis  Lee.  Perhaps  a  dash  at  first 
would  carry  the  General  and  the  dogs  somewhat  in  advance. 
My  side  had  a  trick  of  aching  if  we  started  off  on  a  gallop, 
and  I  was  obliged  to  keep  a  tight  rein  on  Custis  Lee  at  first,  as 
he  champed  at  the  bit,  tossed  his  impatient  head,  and  showed 
every  sign  of  ignominious  shame.  The  General,  as  usual, 
called  out,  "  Come  on,  old  lady!  Hurry  up  that  old  plug  of 
yours;  I  have  one  orderly;  don't  want  another" — this  be- 
cause the  soldier  in  attendance  is  instructed  to  ride  at  a  cer- 


244  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

tain  distance  in  the  rear.  After  a  spurt  of  tremendous  speed, 
back  flew  the  master  to  beg  me  to  excuse  him;  he  was 
ready  now  to  ride  slowly  till  "  that  side  of  mine  came  round 
to  time,"  which  it  quickly  did,  and  then  I  revenged  the  in- 
sult on  my  swift  Lee,  and  the  maligner  at  last  called  out, 
"  That's  not  so  bad  a  nag,  after  all." 

The  horses  bounded  from  the  springy  turf  as  if  they  really 
hated  the  necessity  of  touching  the  sod  at  all.  Theywere 
very  well  matched  in  speed,  and  as  on  we  flew  were  "neck 
by  neck,  stride  by  stride,  never  changing  our  place."  Breath- 
less at  last,  horses,  dogs  and  ourselves  made  a  halt.  The 
orderly  with  his  slow  troop  horse  was  a  speck  in  the  distance. 
Of  course  I  had  gone  to  pieces  little  by  little,  between  the 
mad  speed  and  rushing  through  the  wind  of  the  Plains. 
Those  were  ignominious  days  for  women — thank  fortune 
they  are  over!  Custom  made  it  necessary  to  disfigure  our- 
selves with  the  awkward  waterfall,  and,  no  matter  how 
luxuriant  the  hair,  it  seemed  a  necessity  to  still  pile  up  more. 
With  many  a  wrathful  opinion  regarding  the  fashion,  the 
General  took  the  hairpins,  net  and  switch,  and  thrust  them 
into  the  breast  of  his  coat,  as  he  said,  "  to  clear  the  decks  for 
action  for  another  race."  It  was  enough  that  he  offered  to 
cany  these  barbarities  of  civilization  for  me,  without  my 
bantering  him  about  his  ridiculousness  if  some  accidental 
opening  of  his  coat  in  the  presence  of  the  officers,  who  were 
then  strangers,  revealed  what  he  scoffingly  called  "  dead  wo- 
men's hair." 

A  fresh  repinning,  an  ignoring  of  hairpins  this  time,  re- 
girthing  of  saddles,  some  proud  patting  of  the  horses'  quiv- 
ing  flanks,  passing  of  the  hand  over  the  full  veins  of  their 
necks,  praise  of  the  beautiful  distended,  blood-red  nostrils, 
and  on  we  started  for  another  race.  If  spur  or  whip  had 
been  used  in  speeding  our  horses,  it  would  have  spoiled  the 
sport  for  me,  as  the  effort  and  strain  looks  so  cruelly  like 
work;  but  the  animals  were  as  impatient  fora  run  as  we  were 
to  start  them.  It  must  be  a  rare  moment  of  pleasure  to  all 
horse-lovers,  to  watch  an  animal  flying  over  the  ground, 


WESTWARD    HO!  245 

without  an  incentive  save  the  love  of  motion  born  in  the 
beast.  When  we  came  to  certain  smooth  stretches  on  the 
road,  where  we  were  accustomed  to  give  the  horses  the  rein, 
they  grew  excited  and  impatient,  and  teased  for  the  run  if  we 
chanced  to  be  earnestly  talking  and  forgot  to  take  it.  How 
fortunate  is  one  who  can  ride  a  mythological  Pegasus  as  well 
as  a  veritable  horse!  There  is  nothing  left  for  the  less  gifted 
but  to  use  others'  words  for  our  own  enthusiasm: 

"  Now  we're  off,  like  the  winds,  to  the  plains  whence  they  came; 
And  the  rapture  of  motion  is  thrilling  my  frame! 
On,  on,  speeds  my  courser,  scarce  printing  the  sod, 
Scarce  crushing  a  daisy  to  mark  where  we  trod; 
On,  on,  like  a  deer  when  the  hounds'  early  bay 
Awakes  the  wild  echoes,  away  and  away! 
Still  faster,  still  farther,  he  leaps  at  my  cheer, 
Till  the  rush  of  the  startled  air  whirs  in  my  ear! " 

Buchanan  Read  not  only  made  General  Sheridan's  splendid 
black  horse  immortal,  but  his  grateful  owner  kept  that  faith- 
ful beast,  when  it  was  disabled,  in  a  paddock  at  Leaven- 
worth,  and  then,  when  age  and  old  wounds  ended  his  life, 
he  perpetuated  his  memory  by  having  the  taxidermist  set 
him  up  in  the  Military  Museum  at  Governor's  Island,  that 
the  boys  of  this  day,  to  whom  the  war  is  only  history,  may  re- 
member what  a  splendid  part  a  horse  took  in  those  days, 
when  soldiers  were  not  the  only  heroes.  I  thank  a  poet  for 
having  written  thus  for  us  to  whom  the  horse  is  almost 
human: 

"  I  tell  thee,  stranger,  that  unto  me 

The  plunge  of  a  fiery  steed 
Is  a  noble  thought — to  the  brave  and  free 
It  is  music,  and  breath,  and  majesty — 

'Tis  the  life  of  a  noble  deed; 
And  the  heart  and  the  mind  are  in  spirit  allied 
In  the  charm  of  a  morning's  glorious  ride." 

There  was  a  long,  smooth  stretch  of  land  beyond  Fort 
Riley,  where  we  used  to  speed  our  horses,  and  it  even  now 


A   SUSPENDED   EQUESTRIENNE. 
246 


WESTWARD    HO!  247 

seems  one  of  the  fair  spots  of  earth,  it  is  so  marked  by  happy 
hours.  In  reality  it  was  a  level  plain  without  a  tree,  and  the 
dried  buffalo-grass  had  then  scarcely  a  tinge  of  green.  This 
neutral-tinted,  monotonous  surface  continued  for  many  un- 
varying miles.  We  could  do  as  we  chose  after  we  had  passed 
out  of  sight  of  the  garrison,  and  our  orderly,  if  he  happened 
to  have  a  decent  horse  that  could  overtake  us,  kept  drawing 
the  muscles  of  his  face  into  a  soldierly  expression,  trying  not 
to  be  so  undignified  as  to  laugh  at  the  gamesomeness,  the 
frolic,  of  his  commanding  officer.  What  a  relief  for  the  poor 
fellow,  in  his  uneventful  life,  to  get  a  look  at  these  pranks! 
I  can  see  him  now,  trying  to  keep  his  head  away  and  look 
unconscious,  but  his  eyes  turned  in  their  sockets  in  spite  of 
him  and  caught  it  all.  Those  eyes  were  wild  with  terror  one 
day,  when  our  horses  were  going  full  tilt,  and  the  General 
with  one  powerful  arm,  lifted  me  out  of  my  saddle  and  held 
me  poised  in  the  air  for  a  moment.  Our  horses  were  so 
evenly  matched  in  speed  they  were  neck  and  neck,  keeping 
close  to  each  othe"r,  seemingly  regardless  of  anything  except 
the  delight  at  the  speed  with  which  they  left  the  country  be- 
hind them.  In  the  brief  moment  that  I  found  myself  sus- 
pended between  heaven  and  earth,  I  thought,  with  lightning 
rapidity,  that  I  must  cling  to  my  bridle  and  keep  control  of 
my  flying  horse,  and  trust  to  good  fortune  whether  I  alighted 
on  his  ear  or  his  tail.  The  moment  I  was  thus  held  aloft  was 
an  hour  in  uncertainty,  but  nothing  happened,  and  it  taught 
me  to  prepare  for  sudden  raids  of  the  commanding  officer 
after  that.  I  read  of  this  feat  in  some  novel,  but  was  incred- 
ulous until  it  was  successfully  practiced  on  me.  The  Custer 
men  were  given  to  what  their  Maryland  father  called  "  tot- 
ing" us  around.  I've  seen  them  pick  up  their  mother  and 
carry  her  over  the  house  as  if  she  weighed  fifty  instead  of  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  There  was  no  chance  for  digni- 
fied anger  with  them.  No  matter  how  indignant  I  might  be, 
or  how  loftily  I  might  answer  back,  or  try  one  of  those  elo- 
quent silences  to  which  we  women  sometimes  resort  in  mo- 
ments of  wrath,  I  was  snatched  up  by  either  my  husband  or 


248  TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

Tom,  and  had  a  chance  to  commune  with  the  ceiling  in  my 
airy  flight  up  and  down  stairs  and  through  the  rooms. 

One  of  our  rides  marked  a  day  with  me,  for  it  was  the  oc- 
casion of  a  very  successful  exchange  of  horses.  My  husband 
used  laughingly  to  refer  to  the  transaction  as  unfortunate  for 
him;  but  as  it  was  at  his  suggestion,  I  clung  with  pertinacity 
to  the  bargain.  My  horse,  Custis  Lee,  being  a  pacer,  my 
husband  felt  in  the  fascination  of  that  smooth,  swift  gait  I 
might  be  so  wedded  to  it  I  could  never  endure  anything  else; 
so  he  suggested,  while  we  were  far  out  on  our  evening  ride, 
that  we  change  saddles  and  try  each  other's  horse.  I  objected, 
for  though  I  could  ride  a  spirited  horse  when  I  had  come  to 
know  him,  I  dreaded  the  early  stages  of  acquaintance.  Be- 
sides, Phil  was  a  high-strung  colt,  and  it  was  a  venturesome 
experiment  to  try  him  with  a  long  riding-skirt,  loaded  with 
shot,  knocking  about  his  legs.  At  that  time  the  safe  fashion 
of  short  habits  was  not  in  vogue,  and  the  high  winds  of  Kan- 
sas left  no  alternative  to  loading  our  skirts.  We  kept  open- 
ing the  hem  and  inserting  the  little  shot-bags  as  long  as  we 
lived  there.  Fortunately  for  me,  I  was  persuaded  into  trying 
the  colt.  As  soon  as  he  broke  into  a  long  swinging  trot,  I 
was  so  enchanted  and  so  hilarious  with  the  motion,  that  I 
mentally  resolved  never  to  yield  the  honor  temporarily  con- 
ferred upon  me.  It  was  the  beginning  of  an  eternal  vigilance 
for  my  husband.  The  animal  was  so  high-strung,  so  quick, 
notwithstanding  he  was  so  large,  that  he  sprang  from  one 
side  of  the  road  to  the  other  on  all  fours,  without  the  slight- 
est warning.  After  I  had  checked  him  and  recovered  my 
breath,  we  looked  about  for  a  cause  for  this  fright,  and  found 
only  the  dark  earth  where  slight  moisture  had  remained  from 
a  shower.  In  order  to  get  the  smoothest  trotting  out  of  him, 
I  rode  with  a  snaffle,  and  I  never  knew  the  General's  eyes  to 
be  off  him  for  more  than  an  instant.  The  officers  protested, 
and  implored  my  husband  to  change  back  and  give  me  the 
pacer.  But  his  pride  was  up,  and  he  enjoyed  seeing  the 
animal  quivering  with  delight  at  doing  his  best  under  a  light 
weight,  and  he  had  genuine  love  for  the  brute  that,  though 


WESTWARD    HO!  249 

so  hard  to  manage  in  his  hands,  responded  to  my  lightest 
touch  or  to  my  voice. 

As  time  advanced  and  our  regiment  gained  better  and  bet- 
ter horseflesh,  it  was  a  favorite  scheme  to  pit  Phil  against 
new-comers.  We  all  started  out,  a  gay  cavalcade  of  noisy, 
happy  people,  and  the  stranger  was  given  the  post  of  honor 
next  to  the  wife  of  the  commanding  officer.  Of  course  he 
thought  nothing  of  this,  as  he  had  been  at  the  right  of  the 
hostess  at  dinner.  The  other  officers  saw  him  take  his  place 
as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  but  in  reality 
it  was  a  deep-laid  plot.  Phil  started  off  with  so  little  effort 
that  our  visitor  thought  nothing  of  keeping  pace  for  a  while, 
and  then  he  began  to  use  his  spurs.  As  my  colt  took  longer 
and  longer  strides,  there  was  triumph  in  the  faces  of  the  offi- 
cers, and  a  gleam  of  delight  in  the  General's  eye.  Then  came 
the  perplexity  in  my  guest's  face  at  a  trotter  outdoing  the  most 
splendid  specimen  of  a  loping  horse,  as  he  thought.  A  little 
glance  from  my  husband,  which  incited  me  to  give  a  sign 
and  a  low  word  or  two  that  only  Phil  and  I  understood,  and 
off  we  flew,  leaving  the  mystified  man  urging  his  nag  in  vain. 
It  was  not  quite  my  idea  of  hospitality  so  to  introduce  a 
new-comer  to  our  horses'  speed ;  but  then  he  was  not  a  tran- 
sient guest,  and  the  sooner  he  knew  all  our  "tricks  and  our 
manners  "  the  better,  while  it  was  beyond  my  power  of  self- 
denial  to  miss  seeing  the  proud  triumph  in  my  husband's 
eyes  as  he  rode  up  and  patted  the  colt  and  received  the  little 
return  of  affection  from  the  knowing  beast.  Phil  went  on 
improving  in  gait  and  swiftness  as  he  grew  in  years,  and  I 
once  had  the  courage,  afterward,  to  speed  him  on  the  Gov- 
ernment race -track  at  Fort  Leavenworth,  though  to  this  day 
I  cannot  understand  how  I  got  up  to  concert  pitch;  and  I 
could  never  be  induced  to  try  such  an  experiment  again.  I 
suppose  I  often  made  as  good  time,  trotting  beside  my  hus- 
band's horse,  but  to  go  alone  was  something  I  was  never  per- 
mitted to  do  on  a  roadway.  The  General  and  brother  Tom 
connived  to  get  this  bit  of  temporary  courage  out  of  me  by 
an  offhand  conversation,  as  we  rode  toward  the  track,  re- 


250  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

garding  what  Phil  might  be  made  to  do  under  the  best  cir- 
cumstances, which  I  knew  meant  the  snaffle-rein,  a  light 
weight,  and  my  hand,  which  the  General  had  trained  to  be 
steady.  I  tried  to  beg  off  and  suggest  either  one  of  them  for 
the  trial;  but  the  curb  which  they  were  obliged  to  use,  as 
Phil  was  no  easy  brute  to  manage  with  them,  made  him 
break  his  gait,  and  a  hundred  and  seventy  pounds  on  his 
back  was  another  obstacle  to  speed.  It  ended  in  my  being 
teased  into  the  experiment,  and  though  I  called  out,  after 
the  first  half-mile,  that  I  could  not  breathe  any  longer,  the 
air  rushed  into  my  lungs  so  rapidly,  they  implored  and  urged 
by  gesture  and  enthusiastic  praise,  until  I  made  the  mile  they 
had  believed  Phil  equal  to  in  three  minutes. 

I  wish  I  could  describe  what  delight  my  husband  took  in  his 
horse  life,  what  hours  of  recreation  and  untiring  pleasure  he  got 
out  of  our  companionship  with  Jack  Rucker,  Phil  and  Custis 
Lee.  On  that  day  we  three  and  our  orderly  were  alone  on  the 
track,  and  such  a  merry,  noisy,  care-forgetting  three  as  we 
were!  the  General,  with  his  stop-watch  in  hand,  cheering  me, 
urging  the  horse  wildly,  clapping  his  hands,  and  hallooing  with 
joy  as  the  animal  responded  to  his  expectation.  Phil's  coming 
up  to  their  boasts  and  anticipations  was  just  a  little  episode 
in  our  life  that  went  to  prove  what  a  rare  faculty  he  had  of 
getting  much  out  of  little,  and  of  how  persistently  the  boy 
in  him  cropped  out  as  soon  as  an  opportunity  came  to  throw 
care  aside.  It  is  one  of  the  results  of  a  life  of  deprivation, 
that  pleasures,  when  they  come,  are  rarities,  and  the  enjoy- 
ment is  intensified.  In  our  life  they  lasted  so  short  a  time 
that  we  had  no  chance  to  learn  the  meaning  of  satiety. 

One  of  the  hardest  trials,  in  our  first  winter  with  the  regi- 
ment, was  that  arising  from  the  constantly  developing  tend- 
ency to  hard  drinking.  Some  who  came  to  us  had  held  up 
for  a  time,  but  they  were  not  restricted  in  the  volunteer  serv- 
ice, as  a  man  who  fought  well  was  forgiven  much  else  that 
came  in  the  rare  intervals  of  peace.  In  the  new  state  of  af- 
fairs, as  went  the  first  few  months  of  the  regiment,  so  would 
it  go  for  all  time.  There  was  a  regiment  stationed  in  New  . 


WESTWARD    HO!  251 

Mexico  at  that  time,  the  record  of  which  was  shameful.  We 
heard  of  its  career  by  every  overland  train  that  came  into  our 
post,  and  from  officers  who  went  out  on  duty.  General 
Sherman  said  that,  with  such  a  set  of  drunkards,  the  regi- 
ment, officers  and  all,  should  be  mustered  out  of  the  service. 
Anything,  then,  rather  than  let  our  Seventh  follow  such  a 
course.  But  I  must  not  leave  the  regiment  at  that  point  in 
its  history.  Eventually  it  came  out  all  right,  ably  officered 
and  well  soldiered,  but  it  was  the  terror  of  the  country  in 
1867.  While  General  Custer  steadily  fought  against  drunk- 
enness, he  was  not  remorseless  or  unjust.  I  could  cite  one 
instance  after  another,  to  prove  with  what  patience  he  strove 
to  reclaim  some  who  were,  I  fear,  hopeless  when  they  joined 
us.  His  own  greatest  battles  were  not  fought  in  the  tented 
field ;  his  most  glorious  combats  were  those  waged  in  daily, 
hourly  fights  on  a  more  hotly  contested  field  than  was  ever 
known  in  common  warfare.  The  truest  heroism  is  not  that 
which  goes  out  supported  by  strong  battalions  and  reserve 
artillery.  It  is  when  a  warrior  for  the  right  enters  into  the 
conflict  alone,  and  dares  to  exercise  his  will  in  defiance  of 
some  established  custom  in  which  lies  a  lurking,  deadly  peril 
or  sin.  I  have  known  my  husband  to  almost  stand  alone  in 
his  opinion  regarding  temperance,  in  a  garrison  containing 
enough  people  to  make  a  good-sized  village.  He  was  thor- 
oughly unostentatious  about  his  convictions,  and  rarely  said 
much;  but  he  stood  to  his  fixed  purpose,  purely  from  horror 
of  the  results  of  drinking.  I  would  not  imply  that  in  garri- 
son General  Custer  was  the  only  man  invariably  temperate. 
There  were  some  on  pledge;  some  temperate  because  they 
paid  such  a  physical  penalty  by  actual  illness  that  they  could 
not  drink;  some  restrained  because  their  best-loved  com- 
rade, weak  in  his  own  might,  "swore  off"  on  consideration 
that  the  stronger  one  of  the  two  backed  him  up;  some 
(God  bless  them!)  refused  because  the  woman  they  loved 
grieved,  and  was  afraid  of  even  one  friendly  glass.  What  I 
mean  is,  that  the  general  custom,  against  which  there  is  little 
opposition  in  any  life,  is,  either  to  indulge  in  the  social  glass, 


252  TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

or  look  leniently  upon  the  habit.  Without  preaching  or 
parading  his  own  strength  in  having  overcome  the  habit, 
General  Custer  stood  among  the  officers  and  men  as  firm  an 
advocate  of  temperance  as  any  evangelist  whose  life  is  devoted 
to  the  cause. 

I  scarcely  think  I  would  have  realized  the  constantly  recur- 
ring temptations  of  my  husband's  life,  had  I  not  been  beside 
him  when  he  fought  these  oft-repeated  battles.  The  pleasure 
he  had  in  convivial  life,  the  manner  in  which  men  and  wo- 
men urged  him  to  join  them  in  enjoyment  of  the  sparkling 
wine,  was  enough  to  have  swept  every  resolution  to  the  winds. 
Sometimes  the  keen  blade  of  sarcasm,  though  set  with  jew- 
els of  wit  and  apparent  badinage,  added  a  cut  that  my  ears, 
so  quickened  to  my  husband's  hard  position,  heard  and 
grieved  over.  But  he  laughed  off  the  carefully  concealed 
thrust.  When  we  were  at  home  in  our  own  room,  if  I  asked 
him,  blazing  anew  with  wrath  at  such  a  stab,  how  he  kept  his 
temper,  he  replied,  "Why  notice  it?  Don't  I  know  what 
I've  been  through  to  gain  my  victory?  That  fellow,  you 
must  remember,  has  fought  and  lost,  and  knows  in  his  soul 
he'll  go  to  the  dogs  if  he  doesn't  hold  up,  and,  Libbie,  he 
can't  do  it,  arid  I  am  sorry  for  him."  Our  brother  Tom  was 
less  patient,  less  forbearing,  for  in  one  of  his  times  of  pledge, 
when  the  noble  fellow  had  given  his  word  not  to  taste  a  drop 
for  a  certain  season  if  a  man  he  loved,  and  about  whom  he 
was  anxious,  would  do  the  same,  he  was  sneered  at  by  a 
brother  officer,  with  gibes  at  his  supposed  or  attempted  su- 
periority. Tom  leaped  across  the  table  in  the  tent  where 
they  sat  at  dinner,  and  shook  up  his  assailant  in  a  very  em- 
phatic way.  I  laugh  in  remembrance  of  his  choler,  and  am 
proud  of  it  now.  I,  as  "gentlewoman,"  descended  from  a 
line  of  decorous  gentlemen  and  ladies,  ought  to  be  horrified 
at  one  man's  seizing  another  by  the  collar  and  pouncing 
upon  him,  regardless  of  the  Marquis  of  Queensbury  rules. 
But  I  know  that  circumstances  alter  cases,  and  in  our  life  an 
occasional  good  shaking  was  better  than  the  slow  justice  of 
a  tedious  court-martial. 


WESTWARD.  HO  !  253 

The  General  would  not  smile,  but  there  was  a  noticeable 
twisting  of  his  mustache,  and  he  took  himself  out  of  the  way 
to  conceal  his  feelings,  when  I  pointed  my  discerning  finger 
at  him  and  said,  "You're  laughing,  your  own  self,  and  you 
think  Tom  was  right,  even  if  you  don't  say  a  word,  and  look 
so  dreadfully  com mandery-o nice ry  at  both  of  us!"  The 
General  did  not  keep  himself  aloof,  and  sometimes,  in  con- 
vivial scenes,  when  he  joined  in  the  increasing  hilarity,  was 
so  infused  with  the  growing  artificial  joviality,  and  grew  jollier 
and  jollier,  that  he  was  accused  himself  of  being  the  wildest 
drinker  of  them  all.  But  some  one  was  sure  to  speak  up  and 
say,  as  the  morning  approached,  "I  have  sat  beside  Custer 
the  night  through,  and  if  he's  intoxicated  it's  over  water,  for 
he  has  not  tasted  a  drop  of  wine — more  loss  to  him,  1  say." 

Only  a  short  time  before  the  final  battle,  he  dined  in  New 
York,  at  a  house  where  General  McDowell  was  also  a  guest. 
When  no  one  else  could  hear,  he  told  me,  with  a  warning 
not  to  talk  of  it,  that  he  had  some  one  to  keep  him  company, 
and  described  the  bowl  of  ice  that  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
untouched  semicircle  of  glasses  before  General  McDowell, 
and  how  the  ice  seemed  just  as  satisfactory  as  any  of  the 
rare  beverages.  We  listened  once  to  John  B.  Gough,  and 
the  General's  enthusiasm  over  his  earnestness  and  his  elo- 
quence was  enhanced  by  the  well-known  fact  of  his  failures, 
and  the  plucky  manner  in  which  he  started  anew.  Everybody 
cries  over  Jefferson's  Rip  Van  Winkle,  even  if  they  have 
never  encountered  drunkenness,  and  my  husband  wept  like  a 
child  because  of  his  intense  sympathy  for  the  weakness  of  the 
poor  tempted  soul,  harrowed  as  he  was  by  a  Xantippe. 

If  women  in  civil  life  were  taken  among  men,  as  army 
women  are,  in  all  sorts  of  festivities,  they  would  get  a  better 
idea  of  what  strength  of  purpose  it  requires  to  carry  out  a 
principle.  At  some  army  posts  the  women  go  to  the  sutler's 
store  with  their  husbands,  for  billiards  or  amusements. 
There  is  a  separate  room  for  the  soldiers,  so  we  see  nothing 
of  those  poor  fellows  who  never  can  stay  sober.  The  sutler's 
is  not  only  the  store,  but  it  is  the  club-house  for  the  garrison, 


254  TENTING. ON   THE   PLAINS. 

and  I  have  known  posts  where  the  officers  were  so  guarded 
about  their  drinking,  that  women  could  go  among  them  and 
join  in  any  amusement  without  being  liable  to  the  distress 
that  the  sight  of  an  intoxicated  man  invariably  gives  to  a 
sensitive  woman.  If  I  saw  drunken  soldiers  reeling  off  after 
pay-day,  it  was  the  greatest  possible  relief  to  me  to  know, 
that  out  of  hundreds  only  a  few  were  married,  as  but  a  cer- 
tain number  of  the  laundresses  were  allowed  to  a  company. 
So  no  woman's  heart  was  going  to  be  wrung  by  unsteady 
steps  approaching  her  door,  and  the  sight  of  the  vacant  eyes 
of  a  weak  husband.  It  took  away  half  the  sting  and  shock, 
to  know  that  a  soldier's  spree  was  not  one  that  recoiled  on 
an  innocent  woman. 

As  I  look  back  upon  our  life,  I  do  not  believe  there  ever 
was  any  path  so  difficult  as  those  men  on  the  frontier  trod. 
Their  failures,  their  fights,  their  vacillations,  all  were  before 
us,  and  it  was  an  anxious  life  to  be  watching  who  won  and 
who  lost  in  those  moral  warfares.  You  could  not  separate 
yourself  from  the  interests  of  one  another.  It  was  a  network 
of  friendships  that  became  more  and  more  interwoven  by 
common  hardships,  deprivations,  dangers,  by  isolation  and 
the  daily  sharing  of  joys  and  troubles.  I  am  thankful  for  the 
certainty  that  there  is  some  one  who  scores  all  our  fights  and 
all  our  victories  ;  for  on  His  records  will  be  written  the  story 
of  the  thorny  path  over  which  an  officer  walked  if  he  reached 
the  goal. 

Women  shielded  in  homes,  supported  by  example,  uncon- 
scious of  any  temptation  save  the  mildest,  will  realize  with 
me  what  it  was  to  watch  the  quivering  mouth  of  a  man  who 
voluntarily  admitted  that  until  he  was  fifty  he  knew  he  was 
in  hourly  peril  of  being  a  drunkard.  The  tears  blind  me  as  I 
go  back  in  retrospection  and  think  over  the  men  that  warred 
against  themselves. 

In  one  respect,  there  never  was  such  a  life  as  ours  ;  it  was 
eminently  one  of  partings.  How  natural,  then,  that  the  last 
act  before  separation  be  one  of  hospitable  generosity  I  How 
little  we  had  to  offer  !  It  was  often  almost  an  impossibility 


WESTWARD  -  HO  !  255 

to  get  up  a  good  dinner.  Then  we  had  so  many  coming  to 
us  from  a  distance,  that  our  welcome  could  not  be  followed 
up  by  any  entertainment  worthy  of  the  name.  Besides,  there 
were  promotions  to  celebrate,  an  occasional  son  and  heir  to 
toast,  birthdays  occurring  so  often,  and  nothing  in  the  world 
that  answered  for  an  expression  of  hospitality  and  good  feel- 
ing but  an  old  straw  demijohn  behind  the  door.  It  was  sur- 
prising what  pertinacious  lives  the  demijohns  of  the  garrison 
had.  The  driver  of  the  wagon  containing  the  few  appoint- 
ments of  an  officer's  outfit,  was  just  as  careful  of  the  familiar 
friend  as  one  could  wish  servants  to  be  with  the  lares  and 
penates  of  an  aesthetic  household.  If  he  was  rewarded  with 
a  drink  from  the  sacred  demijohn,  after  having  safely  pre- 
served it  over  muddy  roads,  where  the  mules  jerked  the 
prairie-schooner  out  of  ruts,  and  where,  except  for  a  protect- 
ing hand,  the  contents  would  have  saturated  the  wagon,  he 
was  thankful.  But  such  was  his  reverence  for  what  he  con- 
sidered the  most  valuable  possession  of  the  whole  wagon, 
virtue  alone  would  have  been  sufficient  reward.  When  in  the 
regimental  movings  the  crockery  (the  very  heaviest  that  is 
made)  was  smashed,  the  furniture  broken,  carpets,  curtains, 
clothes  and  bedding  mildewed  and  torn,  the  old  demijohn 
neither  broke,  spilled  nor  suffered  any  injury  by  exposure  to 
the  elements.  It  was,  in  the  opinion  of  our  lovers  of  good 
whiskey,  a  "survival  of  the  fittest." 

It  never  came  to  be  an  old  story  with  me,  that  in  this  con- 
stant, familiar  association  with  drinking,  the  General  and 
those  of  his  comrades  who  abstained  could  continue  to  exer- 
cise a  marvelous  self-control.  I  could  not  help  constantly 
speaking  to  my  husband  of  what  he  went  through  ;  and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  no  liberty  could  be  too  great  to  extend  to 
men  who,  always  keeping  their  heads,  were  clear  as  to  what 
they  were  about.  The  domestic  lariat  of  a  cavalryman  might 
well  be  drawn  in,  if  the  women  waiting  at  home  were  uncer- 
tain whether  the  brains  of  their  liege  lords  would  be  muddled 
when  absent  from  their  influence. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS    AND    MEN. 

IT  was  well  we  had  our  horses  at  Fort  Riley  for  recreation, 
as  walking  was  almost  out  of  the  question  in  autumn.  The 
wind  blew  unceasingly  all  the  five  years  we  were  in  Kansas, 
but  it  seemed  to  do  its  wildest  work  in  autumn.  No  one  had 
told  us  of  its  incessant  activity,  and  I  watched  for  it  to  quiet 
down  for  days  after  our  arrival,  and  grew  restless  and  dull  for 
want  of  exercise,  but  dared  not  go  out.  As  the  post  was  on 
a  plateau,  the  wind  from  the  two  river  valleys  swept  over  it 
constantly.  The  flag  was  torn  into  ribbons  in  no  time,  and 
the  storm-flag,  made  smaller,  and  used  in  rainy  weather,  had 
to  be  raised  a  good  deal,  while  the  larger  and  handsomer  one 
was  being  mended.  We  found  that  the  other  women  of  the 
garrison,  who  were  there  when  we  arrived,  ventured  out  to 
see  one  another,  and  even  crossed  the  parade-ground,  when 
it  was  almost  impossible  to  keep  on  one's  feet.  It  seems  to 
date  very  far  back,  when  I  recall  that  our  dresses  then  meas- 
ured five  yards  around,  and  were  gathered  as  full  as  could  be 
pressed  into  the  waistband.  These  seven  breadths  of  skirt 
flew  out  in  advance  of  us,  if  they  did  not  lift  themselves  over 
our  heads.  My  skirts  wrapped  themselves  around  my  hus- 
band's ankles,  and  rendered  locomotion  very  difficult  for  us 
both,  if  we  tried  to  take  our  evening  stroll.  He  thought  out 
a  plan,  which  he  helped  me  to  carry  into  effect,  by  cutting 
bits  of  lead  in  small  strips,  and  these  I  sewed  into  the  hem. 
Thus  loaded  down,  we  took  our  constitutional  about  the 
post,  and  outwitted  the  elements,  which  at  first  bade  fair  to 
keep  us  perpetually  housed. 

There  was  very  little  social  life  in  garrison  that  winter.  The 

256 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND   MEN.          257 

officers  were  busy  studying  tactics,  and  accustoming  them- 
selves to  the  new  order  of  affairs,  so  very  different  from  their 
volunteer  experience.  Had  not  everything  been  so  novel,  I 
should  have  felt  disappointed  in  my  first  association  with  the 
regular  army  in  garrison.  I  did  not  then  consider  that  the 
few  old  officers  and  their  families  were  really  the  regular 
army,  and  so  was  somewhat  disheartened  regarding  our  fu- 
ture associates.  As  fast  as  our  own  officers  arrived,  a  part  of 
the  regiment  that  had  garrisoned  Fort  Riley  before  we  came 
went  away;  but  it  soon  became  too  late  in  the  season  to  send 
the  remainder.  The  post  was  therefore  crowded.  The  best 
manners  with  which  all  had  made  their  debut  wore  off,  and 
some  jangling  began.  Some  drank  too  freely,  and  were 
placed  under  arrest,  or  released  if  they  went  on  pledge. 
Nothing  was  said,  of  course,  if  they  were  sober  enough  for 
duty;  but  there  were  some  hopeless  cases  from  the  first.  For 
instance,  a  new  appointee  made  his  entrance  into  our  parlor, 
when  paying  the  visit  that  military  etiquette  requires,  by 
falling  in  at  the  door,  and  after  recovering  an  upright  posi- 
tion, proceeded  to  entangle  himself  in  his  sword  again,  and 
tumble  into  a  chair.  I  happened  to  be  alone,  and  was,  of 
course,  very  much  frightened.  In  the  afternoon  the  officers 
met  in  one  of  their  quarters,  and  drew  up  resolutions  that 
gave  the  new  arrival  the  choice  of  a  court-martial  or  his  res- 
ignation before  night;  and  by  evening  he  had  written  out 
the  papers  resigning  his  commission.  Another  fine-looking 
man,  whom  the  General  worked  long  and  faithfully  to  make 
a  sober  officer,  had  really  some  good  instincts.  He  was  so 
glad  to  get  into  our  home  circle,  and  was  so  social,  telling 
the  drollest  stories  of  far  Western  life,  where  he  had  lived 
formerly,  that  I  became  greatly  interested  in  his  efforts  at 
reformation.  He  was  almost  the  first  to  be  court-martialed 
for  drunkenness  on  duty,  and  that  was  always  a  grief  to  us; 
but  in  those  early  days  of  our  regiment's  history,  arrest,  im- 
prisonment and  trial  had  to  go  on  much  of  the  time.  The 
officer  to  whom  I  refer  was  getting  into  and  out  of  difficulty 
incessantly.  He  repented  in  such  a  frank,  regretful  sort  of 


258  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

way  that  my  husband  kept  faith  in  his  final  reformation  long 
after  it  seemed  hopeless.  One  day  I  asked  him  to  dinner.  It 
was  Thanksgiving,  and  on  those  days  we  tried  to  select  the 
officers  that  talked  most  to  us  of  their  homes  and  parents. 
To  my  dismay,  our  reprobate  came  into  the  room  with  very 
uncertain  gait.  The  other  men  looked  anxiously  at  him.  My 
husband  was  not  in  the  parlor.  I  thought  of  other  instances 
where  these  signs  of  intoxication  had  passed  away  in  a  little 
while,  and  tried  to  ignore  his  condition.  He  was  sober 
enough  to  see  the  concerned  look  in  his  comrades'  faces,  and 
brought  the  tears  to  my  eyes  by  walking  up  to  me  and  say- 
ing, "Mrs.  Custer,  I'm  sorry,  but  I  think  it  would  be  best 
for  me  to  go  home."  Who  could  help  being  grieved  for  a 
man  so  frank  and  humble  over  his  failings  ?  There  were  six 
years  of  such  vicissitudes  in  this  unfortunate  man's  life,  va- 
ried by  brave  conduct  in  the  Indian  campaigns,  before  the 
General  gave  him  up.  He  violated,  at  last,  some  social  law 
that  was  considered  an  outrage  beyond  pardon,  which  com- 
pelled his  departure  from  the  Seventh.  That  first  winter, 
while  the  General  was  trying  to  enforce  one  fact  upon  the 
new-comers,  that  the  Seventh  must  be  a  sober  regiment,  it 
was  a  difficult  and  anything  but  pleasant  experience. 

Very  few  of  the  original  appointments  remained  after  a  few 
years.  Some  who  served  on  to  the  final  battle  of  1876,  went 
through  many  struggles  in  gaining  mastery  of  themselves. 
The  General  believed  in  them,  and  they  were  such  splendid 
fighters,  and  such  fine  men  when  there  was  anything  to  occu- 
py them,  I  know  that  my  husband  appreciated  with  all  his 
soul  what  trials  they  went  through  in  facing  the  monotony 
of  frontier  life.  Indeed,  he  was  himself  enduring  some  hours 
of  torture  from  restlessness  and  inactivity.  It  is  hard  to 
imagine  a  greater  change  than  from  the  wild  excitement  of 
the  Virginia  campaigns,  the  final  scenes  of  the  war,  to  the 
dullness  of  Fort  Riley.  Oh  !  how  I  used  to  feel  when  my 
husband's  morning  duties  at  the  office  were  over,  and  he 
walked  the  floor  of  our  room,  saying,  "  Libbie,  what  shall  I 
do  ?  "  There  were  no  books  to  speak  of,  for  the  Seventh  was 


ERAL  CUSTER   AT   HIS   DESK   IN   HIS   LIBRARY. 

259 


260  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

then  too  new  a  regiment  to  purchase  company  libraries,  as 

we  did  later My  husband  never  cared  much  for 

current  novels,  and  these  were  almost  the  sole  literature  of 
the  households  at  that  time.  At  every  arrival  of  the  mail, 
there  was  absolute  contentment  for  a  while.  The  magazines 
and  newspapers  were  eagerly  read,  and  I  used  to  discover 
that  even  the  advertisements  were  scanned.  If  the  General 
was  caught  at  this,  and  accused  of  it,  he  slid  behind  his  pa- 
per in  mock  humility,  peeping  roguishly  from  one  side  when 
a  voice,  pitched  loftily,  inquired  whether  reading  advertise- 
ments was  more  profitable  than  talking  with  one's  wife  ?  It 
was  hard  enough,  though,  when  the  heaps  of  newspapers  lay 
on  the  floor,  all  devoured,  and  one  so  devoted  to  them  as  he 
was  condemned  to  await  the  slow  arrival  of  another  mail.  The 
Harper 's  Bazar  fashion-pages  were  not  scorned  in  that  dearth 
of  reading,  by  the  men  about  our  fireside.  We  had  among 
us  a  famous  newspaper-reader;  the  men  could  not  outstrip 
her  in  extracting  everything  that  the  paper  held,  and  the 
General  delighted  in  hunting  up  accounts  of  "  rapscallions  " 
from  her  native  State,  cutting  out  the  paragraphs,  and  send- 
ing them  to  her  by  an  orderly.  But  his  hour  of  triumph  was 
brief,  for  the  next  mail  was  sure  to  contain  an  account  of 
either  a  Michigan  or  Ohio  villain,  and  the  promptness  with 
which  General  Custer  was  made  aware  of  the  vagabondage 
of  his  fellow-citizens  was  highly  appreciated  by  all  of  us.  He 
had  this  disadvantage:  he  was  a  native  of  Ohio,  and  appoint- 
ed to  the  Military  Academy  from  there,  and  that  State  claim- 
ed him,  and  very  proud  we  were  to  have  them  do  so;  but 
Michigan  was  the  State  of  his  adoption  during  the  war,  he 
having  married  there,  and  it  being  the  home  of  his  celebrat- 
ed "Michigan  brigade."  .  .  .  He  was  enabled,  by  that 
bright  woman's  industry,  to  ascertain  what  a  large  share  of 
the  population  of  those  States  were  adepts  in  crime,  as  no 
trifling  account,  or  even  a  pickpocket  was  overlooked.  I  re- 
member how  we  laughed  at  her  one  day.  This  friend  of  ours 
was  not  in  the  least  sensational,  she  was  the  very  incarna- 
tion of  delicate  refinement.  All  her  reading  (aside  from 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND    MEN.          26l 

the  search  for  Ohio  and  Michigan  villains  in  the  papers) 
was  of  the  loftiest  type ;  but  the  blood  rose  in  wild  billows 
over  her  sweet  face  when  her  son  declared  his  mother  such  a 
newspaper  devotee  that  he  had  caught  her  reading  the  "  per- 
sonals." We  knew  it  was  a  fib;  but  it  proves  to  what 
lengths  a  person  might  go  from  sheer  desperation,  when 
stranded  on  the  Plains. 

Fortunately,  I  was  not  called  much  from  home,  as  there 
were  few  social  duties  that  winter,  and  we  devised  all  sorts  of 
trumpery  expedients  to  vary  our  life.  There  was  usually  a 
wild  game  of  romps  before  the  day  was  ended,  We  had  the 
strangest  neighbors.  A  family  lived  on  each  floor,  but  the 
walls  were  not  thick,  as  the  Government  had  wasted  no  ma- 
terial in  putting  up  our  plain  quarters.  We  must  have  set 
their  nerves  on  edge,  I  suppose,  for  while  we  tore  up  stairs 
and  down,  using  the  furniture  for  temporary  barricades 
against  each  other,  the  dogs  barking  and  racing  around, 
glad  to  join  in  the  fracas,  the  din  was  frightful. 

The  neighbors — not  belonging  to  our  regiment,  I  am 
thankful  to  say,  having  come  from  a  circle  where  the  husband 
brings  the  wife  to  terms  by  brute  force — in  giving  a  minute 
description  of  the  sounds  that  issued  from  our  quarters,  ac- 
counted for  the  melee  to  those  of  the  garrison  they  could  get 
to  listen,  by  saying  that  the  commanding  officer  was  beating 
his  wife.  While  I  was  inclined  to  resent  such  accusations, 
they  struck  the  General  very  differently.  He  thought  it  was 
intensely  funny,  and  the  gossip  passed  literally  in  at  one  ear 
and  out  at  the  other,  though  it  dwelt  with  him  long  enough 
to  suggest  something  about  the  good  discipline  a  man  might 
have  if  the  Virginia  law,  never  repealed,  were  now  in  vogue. 
I  felt  sure  it  would  fare  badly  with  me;  for,  though  the  di- 
mensions of  the  stick  with  which  a  man  is  permitted  to  beat 
his  wife  are  limited  to  the  size  of  the  husband's  finger,  my 
husband's  hands,  though  in  good  proportion,  had  fingers  the 
bones  of  which  were  unusually  large.  These  strange  fingers 
were  not  noticeable  until  one  took  hold  of  them;  but  if  they 
were  carefully  studied,  with  the  old  English  law  of  Virginia 


262  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

in  mind,  there  well  might  be  a  family  mutiny.  I  tried  to  beg 
off  from  further  visits  to  certain  families  of  this  stamp,  but 
never  succeeded ;  the  General  insisted  on  my  going  every- 
where. One  of  the  women  asked  me  one  day  if  I  rose  early. 
Not  knowing  why  she  asked,  I  replied  that  I  feared  it  was 
often  9  o'clock  before  we  awoke,  whereupon  she  answered,  in 
an  affected  voice,  that  "  she  never  rose  early — it  was  so  ple- 
beian." 

It  was  very  discouraging,  this  first  encounter  with  what  I 
supposed  would  be  my  life-long  associates.  There  were  many 
political  appointments  in  the  army  then.  Each  State  was 
entitled  to  its  quota,  and  they  were  frequently  given  for  fa- 
voritism, regardless  of  soldierly  qualities.  There  were  also  a 
good  many  non-commissioned  officers,  who,  having  done 
good  service  during  the  war,  were  given  commissions  in  the 
new  regiments.  For  several  years  it  was  difficult  to  arrange 
everything  so  satisfactorily  in  social  life  that  no  one's  feelings 
would  be  hurt.  The  unvarying  rule,  which  my  husband  con- 
sidered should  not  be  violated  by  any  who  truly  desired  har- 
mony, was  to  visit  every  one  in  their  circle,  and  exclude  no 
one  from  invitations  to  our  house,  unless  for  positively  dis- 
graceful conduct. 

We  heard,  from  other  posts,  of  the  most  amusing  and 
sometimes  the  most  uncomfortable  of  experiences.  If  I  knew 
any  one  to  whom  this  incident  occurred,  I  should  not  venture 
to  make  use  of  it  as  an  example  of  the  embarrassing  situa- 
tions in  the  new  order  of  affairs  in  the  reorganized  army. 
The  story  is  true;  but  the  names,  if  I  ever  knew  them,  have 
long  since  faded  out  of  memory.  One  of  the  Irish  laun- 
dresses at  a  Western  post  was  evidently  infatuated  with  army 
life,  as  she  was  the  widow  of  a  volunteer  officer — doubtless 
some  old  soldier  of  the  regular  army,  who  held  a  commission 
in  one  of  the  regiments  during  the  war — and  the  woman  drew 
the  pension  of  a  major's  widow.  Money,  therefore,  could 
not  have  been  the  inducement  that  brought  her  back  to  a 
frontier  post.  At  one  time  she  left  her  fascinating  clothes- 
line and  went  into  the  family  of  an  officer,  to  cook,  but  was 


A    MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND   MEN.          263 

obliged  to  leave,  from  illness.  Her  place  was  filled  satisfac- 
torily, and  when  she  recovered  and  came  back  to  the  officer's 
wife,  she  was  told  that  the  present  cook  was  entirely  satisfac- 
tory, but  she  might  yet  find  a  place,  as  another  officer's  wife 
(whose  husband  had  been  an  enlisted  man,  and  had  lately 
been  appointed  an  officer  in  the  regular  regiment  stationed 
there)  needed  a  cook.  It  seems  that  this  officer's  wife  also  had 
been  a  laundress  at  one  time,  and  the  woman  applying  for 
work  squared  herself  off  in  an  independent  manner,  placed 
her  arms  akimbo,  and  announced  her  platform:  "  Mrs.  Blank, 
1  ken  work  for  a  leddy,  but  I  can't  go  there;  there  was  a 
time  when  Mrs. and  I  had  our  toobs  side  by  side." 

How  often,  in  that  first  winter,  I  thought  of  my  father's 
unstinted  praise  of  the  regular  army,  as  he  had  known  it  at 
Sackett's  Harbor  and  at  Detroit,  in  Michigan's  early  days. 
I  could  not  but  wonder  what  he  would  think,  to  be  let  down 
in  the  midst  of  us.  He  used  to  say,  in  reference  to  my  fu- 
ture, "  Daughter,  marrying  into  the  army,  you  will  be  poor 
always  ;  but  I  count  it  infinitely  preferable  to  riches  with  in- 
ferior society.  It  consoles  me  to  think  you  will  be  always 
associated  with  people  of  refinement."  Meanwhile,  the  Gen- 
eral was  never  done  begging  me  to  be  silent  about  any  new 
evidences  of  vulgarity.  There  were  several  high-bred  women 
at  Fort  Riley ;  but  they  were  so  discreet  I  never  knew  but 
that  they  had  been  accustomed  to  such  associations,  until 
after  the  queer  lot  had  departed  and  we  dared  to  speak  con- 
fidentially to  one  another. 

Soon  after  the  officers  began  to  arrive  in  the  autumn,  an 
enlisted  man,  whom  the  General  had  known  about  in  the 
regular  army,  reported  for  duty.  He  had  reenlisted  in  the 
Seventh,  hoping  ultimately  for  a  commission.  He  was  sol- 
dierly in  appearance,  from  his  long  experience  in  military  life, 
and  excellently  well  versed  in  tactics  and  regimental  disci- 
pline. On  this  account  he  was  made  sergeant-major,  the 
highest  non-commissioned  officer  of  a  regiment ;  and,  at  his 
request,  the  General  made  application  almost  at  once  for  his 
appointment  as  a  lieutenant  in  the  Seventh  Cavalry.  The 


264  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

application  was  granted,  and  the  sergeant-major  went  to 
Washington  to  be  examined.  The  examining  board  was 
composed  of  Old  and  experienced  officers,  who  were  reported 
to  be  opposed  to  the  appointment  of  enlisted  men.  At  any 
rate,  the  applicant  was  asked  a  collection  of  questions  that 
were  seemingly  unanswerable.  I  only  remember  one,  "What 
does  a  regiment  of  cavalry  weigh  ?  "  Considering  the  differ- 
ences in  the  officers,  men  and  horses,  it  would  seem  as  if  a 
correct  answer  were  impossible.  The  sergeant-major  failed, 
and  returned  to  our  post  with  the  hopelessness  before  him  of 
five  years  of  association  with  men  in  the  ranks  ;  for  there  is 
no  escaping  the  whole  term  of  enlistment,  unless  it  is  found 
that  a  man  is  under  age.  But  the  General  did  not  give  up. 
He  encouraged  the  disappointed  man  to  hope,  and  when  he 
was  ordered  before  the  board  himself,  he  went  to  the  Secre- 
tary of  War  and  made  personal  application  for  the  appoint- 
ment. Washington  was  then  full  of  men  and  their  friends, 
clamoring  for  the  vacancies  in  the  new  regiments  ;  but  Gen- 
eral Custer  was  rarely  in  Washington,  and  was  guarded  in 
not  making  too  many  appeals,  so  he  obtained  the  promise, 
and  soon  afterward  the>  sergeant-major  replaced  the  chevrons 
with  shoulder-straps.  Then  ensued  one  of  those  awkward 
situations,  that  seem  doubly  so  in  a  life  where  there  is  such 
marked  distinction  in  the  social  standing  of  an  officer  and  a 
private  ;  and  some  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  made  the  situation 
still  more  embarrassing  by  conspicuous  avoidance  of  the  new 
lieutenant,  carefully  ignoring  him  except  where  official  rela- 
tions existed.  This  seemed  doubly  severe,  as  they  knew  of 
nothing  in  the  man's  conduct,  past  or  present,  to  justify  them 
in  such  behavior.  He  had  borne  himself  with  dignity  as 
sergeant-major,  living  very  much  to  himself,  and  performing 
every  duty  punctiliously.  Shortly  before,  he  had  been  an 
officer  like  themselves  in  the  volunteer  service,  and  this  social 
ostracism,  solely  on  account  of  a  few  months  of  service  as  an 
enlisted  man,  was  absurd.  They  went  back  to  his  early  serv- 
ice as  a  soldier,  determined  to  show  him  that  he  was  not  "  to 
the  manner  born."  The  single  men  had  established  a  mess,  and 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND   MEN.          265 

each  bachelor  officer  who  came  was  promptly  called  upon,  and 
duly  invited  to  join  them  at  table.  There  was  literally  no  other 
place  to  be  fed.  There  were  no  cooks  to  be  had  in  that  un- 
settled land,  and  if  there  had  been  servants  to  hire,  the  ex- 
orbitant wages  would  have  consumed  a  lieutenant's  pay. 
There  were  enough  officers  in  the  bachelors'  mess  to  carry 
the  day  against  the  late  sergeant-major.  My  husband  was 
much  disturbed  by  this  discourteous  conduct ;  but  it  did  not 
belong  to  the  province  of  the  commanding  officer,  and  he 
was  careful  to  keep  the  line  of  demarkation  between  social 
and  official  affairs  distinct.  Yet  it  did  not  take  long  for  him 
to  think  a  way  out  of  the  dilemma.  He  came  to  me  to  ask 
if  I  would  be  willing  to  have  him  in  our  family  temporarily, 
and,  of  course,  it  ended  in  the  invitation  being  given.  In  the 
evening,  when  our  quarters  filled  up  with  the  bachelor  offi- 
cers, they  found  the  lieutenant  whom  they  had  snubbed 
established  as  one  of  the  commanding  officer's  family.  He 
remained  as  one  of  us  until  the  officers  formed  another  mess, 
as  their  number  increased,  and  the  new  lieutenant  was  invited 
to  join  them.  This  was  not  the  end  of  General  Custer's 
marked  regard  for  him,  and  as  long  as  he  lived  he  showed 
his  unswerving  friendship,  and,  in  ways  that  the  officer  never 
knew,  kept  up  his  disinterested  loyalty,  making  me  sure,  as 
years  advanced,  that  he  was  worthy  of  the  old  adage,  "  Once 
a  friend,  always  a  friend."  Until  he  was  certain  that  there 
was  duplicity  and  ingratitude,  or  that  worst  of  sins,  concealed 
enmity,  he  kept  faith  and  friendships  intact.  At  that  time 
there  was  every  reason  in  the  world  for  an  officer  whose  own 
footing  was  uncertain,  and  who  owed  everything  to  my  hus- 
band, to  remain  true  to  him. 

Many  of  the  officers  were  learning  to  ride,  as  they  had 
either  served  in  the  infantry  during  the  war,  or  were  appointed 
from  civil  life,  and  came  from  all  sorts  of  vocations.  It  would 
seem  that  hardly  half  of  the  number  then  knew  how  to  sit  or 
even  to  mount  a  horse,  and  the  grand  and  lofty  tumbling 
that  winter  kept  us  in  a  constant  state  of  merriment.  It  was 
too  bad  to  look  on  and  laugh  ;  but  for  the  life  of  me  I  could 


266  TENTING    ON    THE    PLAINS. 

not  resist  every  chance  I  had  to  watch  them  clambering  up 
their  horses'  sides,  tying  themselves  hopelessly  in  their  sabres, 
and  contorting  their  heels  so  wildly  that  the  restive  animal 
got  the  benefit  of  a  spur  in  unexpected  places,  as  likely  in  his 
neck  as  in  his  flank.  One  officer,  who  came  to  us  from  the 
merchant  marine,  used  to  insist  upon  saying  to  his  brother 
officers,  when  off  duty  and  experimenting  with  his  steed,  "If 
you  don't  think  I  am  a  sailor,  see  me  shin  up  this  horse's 
foreleg." 

Some  grew  hot  and  wrathy  if  laughed  at,  and  that  in- 
creased our  fun.  Others  were  good-natured,  even  coming 
into  the  midst  of  us  and  deliberately  narrating  the  number  of 
times  the  horse  had  either  slipped  from  under  them,  turned 
them  off  over  his  head,  or  rubbed  them  off  by  running  against 
a  fence  or  tree-trunk.  Occasionally  somebody  tried  to  hide 
the  fact  that  he  had  been  thrown,  and  then  there  was 
high  carnival  over  the  misfortune.  The  ancient  rule,  that 
had  existed  as  far  back  as  the  oldest  officer  could  remember, 
was,  that  a  basket  of  champagne  was  the  forfeit  of  a  first  fall. 
Many  hampers  were  emptied  that  winter  ;  but  as  there  were 
so  many  to  share  the  treat  (and  I  am  inclined  to  think,  also, 
it  was  native  champagne,  from  St.  Louis),  I  don't  remember 
any  uproarious  results,  except  the  natural  wild  spirits  of  fun- 
loving  people.  After  the  secret  was  out  and  the  forfeit  paid, 
there  was  much  more  courage  among  the  officers  in  letting 
the  mishaps  be  known.  They  did  not  take  their  nags  off  into 
gullys  where  they  were  hidden  from  the  post,  and  have  it 
out  alone,  but  tumbled  off  in  sight  of  the  galleries  of  our  quar- 
ters, and  made  nothing  of  a  whole  afternoon  of  voluntary 
mounting  and  decidedly  involuntary  dismounting.  One  of 
the  great  six-footers  among  us  told  me  his  beast  had  tossed 
him  off  half  a  dozen  times  in  one  ride,  but  he  ended  by  con- 
quering. He  daily  fought  a  battle  with  his  horse,  and,  in 
describing  the  efforts  to  unseat  him,  said  that  at  last  the  ani- 
mal jumped  into  the  creek.  How  I  admired  his  pluck  and 
the  gleam  in  his  eye  ;  and  what  a  glimpse  that  determination 
to  master  gave  of  his  successful  future  !  for  he  won  in  resist- 


A   MEDLEY    OF   OFFICERS   AND   MEN.          267 

ing  temptation,  and  conquered  in  making  himself  a  soldier, 
and  his  life,  though  short,  was  a  triumph. 

I  am  obliged  to  confess  that  to  this  day  I  owe  a  basket  of 
champagne,  for  I  belonged  to  those  that  went  off  the  horse 
against  their  will  and  then  concealed  the  fact.  My  husband 
and  one  of  his  staff  were  riding  with  me  one  day,  and  asked 
me  to  go  on  in  advance,  as  they  wanted  to  talk  over  some- 
thing that  was  not  of  interest  to  me.  I  forgot  to  keep  watch 
of  my  fiery  steed,  and  when  he  took  one  of  those  mad  jumps 
from  one  side  of  the  road  to  the  other,  at  some  imaginary 
obstacle,  not  being  on  guard  I  lost  balance,  and  found  myself 
hanging  to  the  saddle.  There  was  nothing  left  for  me  but  an 
ignominious  slide,  and  I  landed  in  the  dust.  The  General 
found  Phil  trotting  riderless  toward  him,  was  terribly  fright- 
ened, and  rode  furiously  toward  where  I  was.  To  save  him 
needless  alarm,  I  called  out,  "All  right!"  from  my  lowly 
position,  and  was  really  quite  unharmed,  save  my  crushed 
spirits.  No  one  can  serve  in  the  cavalry  and  not  feel  humil- 
iated by  a  fall.  I  began  to  implore  the  two  not  to  tell,  and 
in  their  relief  at  my  escape  from  serious  hurt  they  promised. 
But  for  weeks  they  made  my  life  a  burden  to  me,  by  direct 
and  indirect  allusions  to  the  accident  when  a  group  of  us 
were  together.  They  brought  little  All  Right,  the  then  fa- 
mous Japanese  acrobat,  into  every  conversation,  and  the  Gen- 
eral was  constantly  wondering,  in  a  seemingly  innocent  man- 
ner, "  how  an  old  campaigner  could  be  unseated,  under  any 
circumstances."  It  would  have  been  better  to  confess  and 
pay  the  'penalty,  than  to  live  thus  under  the  sword  of  Dam- 
ocles. Still,  I  should  have  deprived  my  husband  of  a  world 
of  amusement,  and  every  joke  counted  in  those  dull  days, 
even  when  one  was  himself  the  victim. 

The  Board  in  Washington  then  examining  the  officers  of 
the  new  regiments,  called  old  and  new  alike  ;  but  in  the  Gen- 
eral's case,  as  in  that  of  most  of  the  officers  who  had  seen 
service  before  the  war,  or  were  West  Point  graduates,  it  was 
but  a  form,  and  he  was  soon  back  in  our  post. 

He  began  then  a  fashion  that  he  always  kept  up  afterward, 


268  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

of  having  regular  openings  of  his  trunk  for  my  benefit.  I  was 
as  interested  in  the  contents  as  any  child.  First  putting  me 
under  promise  to  remain  in  one  spot  without  "peeking,"  as 
the  children  say,  he  took  out  from  the  trunk  in  our  room  ar- 
ticle after  article  for  me.  They  comprised  everything  a  wo- 
man could  wear,  from  gowns  to  stockings,  with  ribbons  and 
hats.  If  all  the  gowns  he  brought  were  not  made,  he  had 
dress-materials  and  stored-up  recollections  of  the  new  modes 
of  trimming.  He  enjoyed  jokes  on  himself,  and  gave  us  all 
a  laughable  description  of  his  discovering  in  the  city  some 
fashion  that  he  had  especially  liked,  when,  turning  in  the 
crowded  street,  he  followed  at  a  respectful  distance  the  woman 
wearing  it,  in  order  to  commit  to  memory  the  especial  style. 
Very  naturally,  he  also  took  in  the  gait  and  figure  of  the 
stylish  wearer,  even  after  he  had  fixed  the  cut  of  her  gown  in 
his  mind  that  he  might  eventually  transfer  it  to  me.  Ah, 
how  we  tormented  him  when  he  described  his  discomfiture, 
and  the  sudden  termination  of  his  walk,  when  a  turn  in  the 
street  revealed  the  face  of  a  negress  ! 

I  shall  have  to  ask  that  a  thought  be  given  to  our  surround- 
ings, to  make  clear  what  an  immense  pleasure  a  trunkful  of 
finery  was  at  that  time.  There  were  no  shops  nearer  than 
Leaven  worth,  and  our  faces  were  set  westward,  so  there 
seemed  to  be  no  prospect  of  getting  such  an  outfit  for  years. 
There  was  no  one  in  that  far  country  to  prevent  the  screams 
of  delight  with  which  each  gift  was  received,  and  it  is  im- 
possible to  describe  how  jubilant  the  donor  was  over  the  suc- 
cess of  his  purchases.  Brother  Tom  made  a  time  always, 
because  his  name  was  left  out,  but  he  noted  carefully  if  the 
General's  valise  held  a  new  supply  of  neckties,  gloves,  etc.,  and 
by  night  he  had  usually  surreptitiously  transferred  the  entire 
contents  to  his  own  room.  The  first  notification  would  be 
his  appearance  next  morning  at  the  breakfast-table  wearing 
his  brother's  new  things,  his  face  perfectly  solemn  and  inno- 
cent, as  if  nothing  peculiar  was  going  on.  This  sort  of  game 
never  grew  old,  and  it  seemed  to  give  them  much  more 
amusement  than  if  the  purchases  were  formally  presented. 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND    MEN.          269 

My  husband  confided  to  me  that,  knowing  Tom  would  take 
all  he  could  lay  his  hands  on,  he  had  bought  twice  as  many 
as  he  needed.  The  truth  is,  it  was  only  for  the  boyish  fun 
they  got  out  of  it,  for  he  always  shared  everything  he  had 
with  his  brother. 

At  some  point  in  the  journey  East,  the  General  had  fallen 
into  conversation  with  an  officer  who,  in  his  exuberance  of 
spirits  at  his  appointment  to  the  Seventh,  had  volunteered 
every  detail  about  himself.  He  was  coming  from  his  exam- 
ination at  Washington,  and  was  full  of  excitement  over  the 
new  regiment.  He  had  not  the  slightest  idea  who  my  hus- 
band was,  only  that  he  was  also  an  officer,  but  in  the  course 
of  conversation  brought  his  name  up,  giving  all  the  accounts 
he  had  heard  of  him  from  both  enemies  and  friends,  and  his 
own  impressions  of  how  he  should  like  him.  The  General's 
love  of  mischief,  and  curiosity  to  hear  himself  so  freely  dis- 
cussed, led  the  unsuspecting  man  to  ramble  on  and  on,  in- 
cited by  an  occasional  query  or  reflection  regarding  the  char- 
acter of  the  Lieutenant-colonel  of  the  Seventh.  The  first 
knowledge  the  Lieutenant  had  with  whom  he  had  been  talk- 
ing was  disclosed  to  him  when  he  came  to  pay  the  customary 
call  on  the  return  of  the  commanding  officer  at  Fort  Riley. 
His  face  was  a  study;  perplexity  and  embarrassment  red- 
dened his  complexion  almost  to  a  purple,  and  he  moved 
about  uneasily  in  his  chair,  abashed  to  think  he  had  allowed 
himself  to  speak  so  freely  of  a  man  to  that  person's  very  face. 
My  husband  left  him  but  a  moment  in  this  awkward  predica- 
ment, and  then  laughed  out  a  long  roll  of  merriment,  grasp- 
ing the  man's  hand,  and  assured  him  that  he  must  remem- 
ber his  very  freely  expressed  views  were  the  opinions  of  oth- 
ers, and  not  his  own.  It  was  a  great  relief  to  the  Lieutenant, 
when  he  reached  his  quarters,  to  find  that  he  had  escaped 
some  dire  fate,  either  long  imprisonment  or  slow  torture;  for 
at  that  time  the  volunteer  officers  had  a  deeply  fixed  terror 
of  the  stern,  unflinching  severity  of  regular  officers.  Again 
he  became  confidential,  and  told  the  bachelor  mess.  This 
was  too  good  a  chance  to  lose;  they  felt  that  some  more  fun 


2/O  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

could  still  be  extracted,  and  immediately  planned  a  sham 
trial.  The  good-natured  man  said  his  stupidity  merited  it, 
and  asked  for  counsel.  The  case  was  spun  out  as  long  as  it 
could  be  made  to  last,  We  women  were  admitted  as  audi- 
ence, and  all  the  grave  dignity  of  his  mock  affair  was  a  nov- 
elty. 

The  court  used  our  parlor  as  a  Hall  of  Justice.  The  coun- 
sel for  the  prisoner  was  as  earnest  in  his  defense  as  if  great 
punishment  was  to  be  averted  by  his  eloquence.  In  the  day- 
time he  prepared  arguments,  while  at  the  same  time  the 
prosecuting  attorney  wrinkled  his  brows  over  the  most  con- 
vincing assaults  on  the  poor  man,  who,  he  vehemently  as- 
serted, ought  not  to  go  at  large  laden  with  such  unpardonable 
crime.  The  judge  addressed  the  jury,  and  that  solemn  body 
of  men  disappeared  into  our  room,  perching  on  the  trunks, 
the  bed,  the  few  chairs,  to  seriously  discuss  the  ominous 
"guilty  "or  "  not  guilty."  The  manner  of  the  grave  and  dig- 
nified judge,  as  he  finally  addressed  the  prisoner,  admonish- 
ing him  as  to  his  future,  sorrowfully  announcing  the  decision 
of  the  jury  as  guilty,  and  condemning  him  to  the  penalty  of 
paying  a  basket  of  champagne,  was  worthy  of  the  chief  ex- 
ecutor of  an  Eastern  court. 

We  almost  regretted  that  some  one  else  would  not,  by 
some  harmless  misdemeanor,  put  himself  within  the  reach  of 
such  a  court.  This  affair  gave  us  the  first  idea  of  the  clever 
men  among  us,  for  all  tried  to  acquit  themselves  at  their  best, 
even  in  the  burlesque  trial. 

Little  by  little  it  came  out  what  varied  lives  our  officers  had 
led  heretofore.  Some  frankly  spoke  of  the  past,  as  they  be- 
came acquainted,  while  others,  making  an  effort  to  ignore 
their  previous  history,  were  found  out  by  the  letters  that  came 
into  the  post  every  mail,  or  by  some  one  arriving  who  had 
known  them  in  their  other  life.  The  best  bred  among  them 
— one  descended  from  a  Revolutionary  colonel  and  Governor 
of  a  State,  the  other  from  Alexander  Hamilton — were  the 
simplest  and  most  unaffected  in  manner.  The  boaster  and 
would-be  aristocrat  of  our  number  had  the  misfortune  to 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND   MEN.          2/1 

come  face  to  face  with  a  townsman,  who  effectually  silenced 
further  reference  to  his  gorgeous  past.  There  were  men  who 
had  studied  law ;  there  was  one  who  had  been  a  stump- 
speaker  in  Montana  politics,  and  at  last  a  judge  in  her  courts; 
another  who  had  been  a  sea-captain,  and  was  distinguished 
from  a  second  of  his  name  in  the  regiment  by  being  called 
always  thereafter  "Salt  Smith,"  while  the  younger  was 
"Fresh  Smith,"  or,  by  those  who  were  fond  of  him, 
"Smithie."  There  was  also  a  Member  of  Congress,  who, 
having  returned  to  his  State  after  the  war,  had  found  his 
place  taken  and  himself  quite  crowded  out.  When  this 
officer  reported  for  duty,  I  could  not  believe  my  eyes.  But 
a  few  months  before,  in  Texas,  he  had  been  such  a  bitter 
enemy  of  my  husband's,  that,  with  all  the  caution  observed 
to  keep  official  matters  out  of  my  life,  it  could  not  be  hidden 
from  me.  The  General,  when  this  officer  arrived,  called  me 
into  our  room  and  explained  that,  finding  him  without  em- 
ployment in  Washington  when  he  went  before  the  Board,  he 
could  not  turn  away  from  his  appeal  for  a  commission  in  the 
service,  and  had  applied,  without  knowing  he  would  be  sent 
to  our  regiment.  "And  now,  Libbie,  you  would  not  hurt  my 
feelings  by  showing  animosity  and  dislike  to  a  man  whose 
hair  is  already  gray  !"  There  was  no  resisting  this  appeal, 
and  no  disguising  my  appreciation  of  the  manner  in  which 
he  treated  his  enemies,  so  his  words  brought  me  out  on  the 
gallery  with  extended  hand  of  welcome,  though  I  would 
sooner  have  taken  hold  of  a  tarantula.  I  never  felt  a  mo- 
ment's regret,  and  he  never  forgot  the  kindness,  or  that  he 
owed  his  prosperity,  his  whole  future,  in  fact,  to  the  General, 
and  he  won  my  regard  by  his  unswerving  fidelity  to  him  from 
that  hour  to  this. 

There  were  some  lieutenants  fresh  from  West  Point,  and 
some  clerks,  too,  who  had  tried  to  turn  themselves  into  mer- 
chants, and  groaned  over  the  wretched  hours  they  had  spent, 
since  the  close  of  the  war,  in  measuring  tape.  We  had  sev- 
eral Irish  officers — reckless  riders,  jovial  companions.  One 
had  served  in  the  Papal  army,  and  had  foreign  medals. 


272  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

There  was  an  Italian  who  had  a  long,  strange  career  to  draw 
upon  for  our  amusement,  and  numbered,  among  his  experi- 
ences, imprisonment  for  plotting  the  life  of  his  king.  There 
were  two  officers  who  had  served  in  the  Mexican  War,  and 
the  ears  of  the  subalterns  were  always  opened  to  their  stories 
of  those  days  when,  as  lieutenants,  they  followed  Gen.  Scott 
in  his  march  over  the  old  Cortez  highway  to  his  victories  and 
conquests.  There  was  a  Prussian  among  the  officers,  who, 
though  expressing  his  approval  of  the  justice  and  courtesy 
that  the  commanding  officer  showed  in  his  charge  of  the  gar- 
rison, used  to  infuriate  the  others  by  making  invidious  dis- 
tinctions regarding  foreign  service  and  our  own.  We  had  an 
educated  Indian  as  an  officer.  He  belonged  to  the  Six  Na- 
tions, and  his  father  was  a  Scotchman;  but  there  was  no 
Scotch  about  him,  except  that  he  was  loyal  to  his  trusts  and 
a  brave  soldier,  for  he  looked  like  any  wild  man  of  the  Plains; 
and  one  of  his  family  said  to  him,  laughingly,  "  Dress  you 
up  in  a  blanket,  and  you  couldn't  be  told  from  a  Cheyenne 
or  Arrapahoe."  There  was  a  Frenchman  to  add  to  the  na- 
tionalities we  represented,  and  in  our  heterogeneous  collection 
one  company  might  have  its  three  officers  with  parentage 
from  three  of  the  four  corners  of  the  earth. 

The  immense  amount  of  rank  these  new  lieutenants  and 
captains  carried  was  amusing,  for  those  who  had  served  in 
the  war  still  held  their  titles  when  addressed  unofficially,  and 
it  was,  to  all  appearances,  a  regiment  made  up  of  generals, 
colonels  and  majors.  Occasionally,  an  officer  who  had  served 
in  the  regular  army  many  years  before  the  war  arrogantly 
lorded  it  over  the  young  lieutenants.  One  especially,  who 
saw  nothing  good  in  the  service  as  it  now  was,  constantly  re- 
ferred to  "how  it  was  done  in  the  old  First."  Having  a 
young  fellow  appointed  from  civil  life  as  his  lieutenant,  who 
knew  nothing  of  army  tactics  or  etiquette,  he  found  a  good 
subject  over  whom  to  tyrannize.  He  gave  this  lad  to  under- 
stand that  whenever  the  captain  made  his  appearance  he 
must  jump  up,  offer  him  a  chair,  and  stand  attention.  It  was, 
in  fact,  a  servile  life  he  was  mapping  out  for  his  subordinate. 


A   MEDLEY   OF  OFFICERS  AND   MEN.          273 

If  the  lad  asserted  himself  in  the  slightest  way,  the  captain 
straightened  up  that  Prussian  backbone,  tapped  his  shoulder- 
strap,  and  grandiloquently  observed,  "  Remember  the  goolf" 
[gulf],  meaning  the  great  chasm  that  intervened  between  a 
shoulder-strap  with  two  bars  and  one  with  none.  Even  one 
knowing  little  of  military  life  is  aware  that  the  "goolf"  be- 
tween a  captain  and  a  second  lieutenant  is  not  one  of  great 
magnitude.  At  last  the  youth  began  to  see  that  he  was  be- 
ing imposed  upon,  and  that  other  captains  did  not  so  hold 
themselves  toward  their  inferiors  in  rank,  and  he  confiden- 
tially laid  the  case  before  a  new  arrival  who  had  seen  service, 
asking  him  how  much  of  a  stand  he  might  make  for  his  self- 
respect  without  infringing  on  military  rules.  The  reply  was, 
"  When  next  he  tries  that  game  on  you,  tell  him  to  go  to  h — 
with  his  gulf."  The  young  fellow,  not  lacking  in  spirit,  re- 
turned to  his  captain  well  primed  for  the  encounter,  and 
when  next  the  gulf  was  mentioned,  he  stretched  up  his  six 
feet  of  admirable  physique,  and  advised  the  captain  to  take 
the  journey  "with  his  gulf,"  that  had  been  previously  sug- 
gested by  his  friend. 

This  same  young  fellow  was  a  hot-headed  youth,  though  a 
splendid  soldier,  and  had  a  knack  of  getting  into  little  alter- 
cations with  his  brother-officers.  On  one  occasion  at  our  house 
during  a  garrison  hop,  he  and  another  officer  had  some  dis- 
pute about  dancing  with  a  young  lady,  and  retired  to  the 
coat-room,  too  courteous  to  enter  into  a  discussion  in  the 
presence  of  women.  It  occurred  to  them,  as  words  grew 
hotter  and  insufficient  for  the  gravity  of  the  occasion,  that  it 
would  be  well  to  interview  the  commanding  officer,  fearing 
that  they  might  be  placed  in  arrest.  One  of  them  descended 
to  the  dancing-room,  called  the  General  one  side,  told  the 
story,  and  asked  permission  to  pound  his  antagonist,  whom 
he  considered  the  aggressor.  The  General,  knowing  well 
how  it  was  himself,  having,  at  West  Point,  been  known  as 
the  cadet  who  said,  "  Stand  back,  boys,  and  let's  have  a  fair 
fight!  "gave  his  permission.  The  door  of  the  coat-room 
closed  on  the  contestants  for  the  fair  lady's  favor,  and  they 


274  TENTING   ON    THE   PLAINS. 

had  it  out  alone.  It  must  not,  from  this  incident,  be  inferred 
that  our  officers  belonged  to  a  class  whose  idea  of  justice  was 
"  knocking  down  and  dragging  out,"  but,  in  the  newness  of 
our  regiment,  there  seemed  to  be  occasions  when  there  was 
no  recourse  for  impositions  or  wrongs,  except  in  the  natural 
way.  The  mettle  of  all  was  being  tested  with  a  large  num- 
ber of  men  turned  suddenly  from  a  free  life  into  the  narrow 
limits  of  a  garrison.  Where  everybody's  elbow  knocked  his 
neighbor's,  and  no  one  could  wholly  escape  the  closest  sort  of 
intercourse,  it  was  the  most  natural  consequence  that  some 
jarring  and  grating  went  on. 

None  of  us  know  how  much  the  good-nature  that  we  pos- 
sess is  due  to  the  fact  that  we  can  take  refuge  in  our  homes 
or  in  flight,  sometimes,  from  people  who  rasp  and  rub  us  up 
the  wrong  way. 

Our  regiment  was  then  a  medley  of  incongruous  elements, 
and  might  well  have  discouraged  a  less  persevering  man,  in 
the  attempt  to  mould  such  material  into  an  harmonious 
whole.  From  the  first,  the  effort  was  to  establish  among  the 
better  men,  who  had  ambition,  the  proper  esprit  de  corps  re- 
garding their  regiment.  The  General  thought  over  carefully 
the  future  of  this  new  organization,  and  worked  constantly 
from  the  first  days  to  make  it  the  best  cavalry  regiment  in 
the  service.  He  assured  me,  when  occasionally  I  mourned 
the  inharmonious  feeling  that  early  began  to  crop  out,  that  I 
must  neither  look  for  fidelity  nor  friendship,  in  its  best  sense, 
until  the  whole  of  them  had  been  in  a  fight  together;  that  it 
was  on  the  battle-field,  when  all  faced  death  together,  where 
the  truest  affection  was  formed  among  soldiers.  I  could  not 
help  noting,  that  first  year,  the  change  from  the  devotion  of 
my  husband's  Division  of  cavalry  in  the  Army  of  the  Poto- 
mac, to  these  new  officers,  who,  as  yet,  had  no  affection  for 
him,  nor  even  for  their  regiment.  He  often  asked  me  to 
have  patience,  not  to  judge  too  quickly  of  those  who  were  to 
be  our  companions,  doubtless  for  years  to  come,  and  re- 
minded me  that,  as  yet,  he  had  done  nothing  to  win  their 
regard  or  command  their  respect;  he  had  come  among  offi- 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND    MEN.          2/5 

cers  and  men  as  an  organizer,  a  disciplinarian,  and  it  was 
perfectly  natural  they  should  chafe  under  restraints  they  had 
never  known  before.  It  was  a  hard  place  for  my  husband  to 
fill,  and  a  most  thankless  task,  to  bring  that  motley  crowd 
into  military  subjection.  The  mischief-makers  attempted  to 
report  unpleasant  criticisms,  and  it  was  difficult  to  keep  in 
subjection  the  jealousy  that  existed  between  West  Point 
graduates,  volunteer  officers,  and  civil  appointees.  Of  course 
a  furtive  watch  was  kept  on  the  graduates  of  the  Military 
Academy  for  any  evidences  of  assumed  superiority  on  their 
part,  or  for  the  slightest  dereliction  of  duty.  The  volunteer, 
no  matter  how  splendid  a  record  he  had  made  during  the  war, 
was  excessively  sensitive  regarding  the  fact  that  he  was  not  a 
graduated  officer.  My  husband  persistently  fought  against 
any  line  of  demarkation  between  graduates  and  non-gradu- 
ates. He  argued  personally,  and  wrote  for  publication,  that 
the  war  had  proved  the  volunteer  officers  did  just  as  good 
service  as,  and  certainly  were  not  one  whit  less  brave  than, 
West  Pointers.  I  remember  how  every  little  slip  of  a  West 
Pointer  was  caught  at  by  the  others.  One  morning  a  group 
of  men  were  gathered  about  the  flag-staff  at  guard-mount, 
making  the  official  report  as  officer  of  the  day  and  officer  of 
the  guard,  when  a  West  Pointer  joined  them  in  the  irre- 
proachable uniform  of  a  lieutenant,  walking  as  few  save 
graduates  ever  do  walk.  He  gravely  saluted,  but,  instead  of 
reporting  for  duty,  spoke  out  of  the  fullness  of  his  heart, 
"  Gentlemen,  it's  a  boy."  Of  course,  not  a  man  among  them 
was  insensible  to  the  honor  of  being  the  father  of  a  first  son 
and  heir,  and  all  suspended  military  observances  belonging 
to  the  morning  duties,  and  genuinely  rejoiced  with  the  new- 
made  parent;  but  still  they  gloated  over  the  fact  that  there 
had  been,  even  in  such  a  moment  of  excitement,  this  lapse  of 
military  dignity  in  one  who  was  considered  a  cut-and-dried 
soldier. 

An  embarrassing  position  for  General  Custer  was,  that  he 
had  under  him  officers  much  older  than  himself.  He  was 
;hen  but  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  and  the  people  who 


2/6  TENTING  ON  THE   PLAINS. 

studied  to  make  trouble  (and  how  rarely  are  they  absent  from 
any  community  !)  used  this  fact  as  a  means  of  stirring  up  dis- 
sension. How  thankful  I  was  that  nothing  could  draw  him 
into  difficulty  from  that  question,  for  he  either  refused  to 
listen,  or  heard  only  to  forget.  One  day  he  was  deeply 
moved  by  the  Major  of  our  regiment,  General  Alfred  Gibbs, 
who  had  commanded  the  brigade  of  regular  cavalry  in  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac  during  the  war,  and  whose  soul  was  so 
broad  and  his  heart  so  big  that  he  was  above  everything 
petty  or  mean.  My  husband  called  me  into  our  room  and 
shut  the  door,  in  order  to  tell  me,  quietly,  that  some  gossip 
had  endeavored  to  spread  a  report  that  General  Gibbs  was 
galled  by  his  position,  and  unwilling  to  submit  to  the  author- 
ity of  so  young  a  man.  On  hearing  this,  he  came  straight- 
way to  General  Custer — ah,  what  worlds  of  trouble  we  would 
be  saved  if  there  were  courage  to  inquire  into  slander! — and 
in  the  most  earnest,  frank  manner  assured  him  that  he  had 
never  expressed  such  sentiments,  and  that  their  years  of 
service  together  during  the  war  had  established  an  abiding 
regard  for  his  soldierly  ability  that  made  it  a  pleasure  to  be 
in  his  regiment.  This,  from  an  officer  who  had  served  with 
distinction  in  the  Mexican  War,  as  well  as  done  gallant  ser- 
vice in  an  Indian  campaign  before  the  Civil  War,  was  a  most 
grateful  compliment  to  my  husband.  General  Gibbs  was  a 
famous  disciplinarian,  and  he  had  also  the  quaintest  manner 
of  fetching  every  one  to  the  etiquettical  standard  he  knew  to 
be  necessary.  He  was  witty,  and  greatly  given  to  joking, 
and  yet  perfectly  unswerving  in  the  performance  of  the  most 
insignificant  duty.  We  have  exhausted  ourselves  with  laugh- 
ter as  he  described,  by  contortions  of  feature  and  really  ex- 
traordinary facial  gymnastics,  his  efforts  to  dislodge  a  ven- 
turesome and  unmilitary  fly,  that  had  perched  on  his  nose 
when  he  was  conducting  a  dress-parade.  To  lift  his  hand 
and  brush  off  the  intruder,  with  a  long  line  of  soldiers  facing 
him,  was  an  example  he  would  scarcely  like  them  to  follow; 
and  yet  the  tantalizing  tickling  of  those  fly-legs,  slowly  trav- 
eling over  his  moist  and  heated  face,  was  almost  too  exas- 


A   MEDLEY   OF   OFFICERS   AND   MEN.          277 

perating  to  endure.  If  General  Gibbs  felt  the  necessity  of 
reminding  any  one  of  carelessness  in  dress,  it  was  managed 
in  so  clever  a  manner  that  it  gave  no  lasting  offense.  My 
husband,  absorbed  in  the  drilling,  discipline,  and  organiza- 
tion of  the  regiment,  sometimes  overlooked  the  necessity  for 
social  obligations,  and  immediately  came  under  the  General's 
witty  criticisms.  If  a  strange  officer  visited  our  post,  and  any 
one  neglected  to  call,  as  is  considered  obligatory,  it  was  re- 
marked upon  by  our  etiquettical  mentor.  If  the  officers  were 
careless  in  dress,  or  wore  semi-military  clothes,  something 
quite  natural  in  young  fellows  who  wanted  to  load  on  every- 
thing that  glittered,  our  General  Etiquette  made  mention  of 
it.  One  wore  an  English  forage-cap  with  a  lo'.  of  gilt  braid 
on  top,  instead  of  the  plain  visored  cap  of  the  regulations. 
The  way  he  came  to  know  that  this  innovation  must  be  sup- 
pressed, was  by  a  request  from  General  Gibbs  to  purchase  it 
for  his  bandmaster.  He  himself  was  so  strictly  military  that 
he  could  well  afford  to  hold  the  others  up  to  the  mark.  His 
coats  were  marvelous  fits,  and  he  tightly  buckled  in  his  in- 
creasing rotundity  with  a  superb  belt  and  clasp  that  had  be- 
longed to  his  grandfather,  a  Wolcott  in  the  Revolutionary 
War. 

Most  women  know  with  what  obstinate  determination  and 
adoring  fondness  a  man  clings  to  some  shabby  article  of  wear- 
ing apparel.  There  was  in  our  family  an  ancient  dressing- 
gown,  not  the  jaunty  smoking  -  jacket  that  I  fortunately 
learned  afterward  to  make;  but  a  long,  clumsy,  quilted  mon- 
strosity that  I  had  laboriously  cobbled  out  with  very  ignorant 
fingers.  My  husband  simply  worshiped  it.  The  garment 
appeared  on  one  of  his  birthdays,  and  I  was  praised  beyond 
my  deserts  for  having  put  in  shape  such  a  success,  and  he 
could  hardly  slide  out  of  his  uniform,  when  he  came  from  the 
office,  quickly  enough  to  enable  him  to  jump  into  this  soft, 
loose  abomination.  If  he  had  vanity,  which  it  is  claimed  is 
lodged  somewhere  in  every  human  breast,  it  was  spasmodic, 
for  he  not  only  knew  that  he  looked  like  a  fright,  but  his  fam- 
ily told  him  this  fact,  with  repeated  variations  of  derision. 


2/8  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

When  at  last  it  became  not  even  respectable,  it  was  so  ragged, 
I  attempted  to  hide  it,  but  this  did  no  earthly  good.  The 
beloved  possession  was  ferreted  out,  and  he  gaily  danced  up 
and  down  in  triumph  before  his  discomfited  wife,  all  the  rags 
and  tags  flaunting  out  as  he  moved.  In  vain  General  Gibbs 
asked  me  why  I  allowed  such  a  disgraceful  "  old  man's  gar- 
ment "  about.  The  truth  was,  there  was  not  half  the  disci- 
pline in  our  family  that  there  might  have  been  had  we  been 
citizens.  A  woman  cannot  be  expected  to  keep  a  man  up  to 
the  mark  in  every  little  detail,  and  surely  she  may  be  excused 
if  she  do  a  little  spoiling  when,  after  months  of  separation, 
she  is  returned  to  the  one  for  whom  her  heart  has  been 
wrung  with  anxiety.  No  sooner  are  you  together  than 
there  comes  the  ever-present  terror  of  being  divided  again. 

General  Gibbs  won  at  last  in  suppressing  the  old  dressing- 
gown,  for  he  begged  General  Custer  to  picture  to  himself  the 
appearance  of  his  entire  regiment  clad  in  long-tailed,  ragged 
gowns  modeled  after  that  of  their  commanding  officer  !  In 
dozens  of  ways  General  Gibbs  kept  us  up  to  the  mark  social- 
ly. He  never  drew  distinctions  between  the  old  army  and 
the  new,  as  some  were  wont  to  do,  and  his  influence  in  shap- 
ing our  regiment  in  social  as  well  as  military  affairs  was  felt 
in  a  marked  manner,  and  we  came  to  regard  him  as  an  au- 
thority, and  to  value  his  suggestions. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  COURSE   OF  TRUE   LOVE. 

SOON  after  my  husband  returned  from  Washington,  he 
found  that  Ristori  was  advertised  in  St.  Louis,  and  as  he  had 
been  delighted  with  her  acting  when  in  the  East,  he  insisted 
upon  my  going  there,  though  it  was  a  journey  of  several  hun- 
dred miles.  The  young  officers  urged,  and  the  pretty  Diana 
looked  volumes  of  entreaty  at  me,  so  at  last  I  consented  to 
go,  as  we  need  be  absent  but  a  few  days.  At  that  time  the 
dreaded  campaign  looked  far  off,  and  I  was  trying  to  cheat 
myself  into  the  belief  that  there  might  possibly  be  none 
at  all. 

Ristori,  heard  under  any  circumstances,  was  an  event  in  a 
life;  but  to  listen  to  her  as  we  did,  the  only  treat  of  the  kind 
in  our  winter,  and  feeling  almost  certain  it  was  the  last  of 
such  privileges  for  years  to  come,  was  an  occasion  never  to 
be  forgotten. 

I  do  not  know  whether  Diana  collected  her  senses  enough 
to  know,  at  any  one  time,  that  she  was  listening  to  the  most 
gifted  woman  in  histrionic  art.  A  civilian  lover  had  appeared 
on  the  scene,  and  between  our  young  officers,  already  far 
advanced  in  the  dazed  and  enraptured  state,  and  the  new 
addition  to  her  retinue,  she  was  never  many  moments  with- 
out "  airy  nothings  "  poured  into  her  ear.  The  citizen  and 
the  officers  glowered  on  each  other,  and  sought  in  vain  to 
monopolize  the  inamorata.  Even  when  the  thoughtless  girl 
put  a  military  cap  on  the  head  of  a  civilian,  and  told  him 
that  an  improvement  in  his  appearance  was  instantly  visible, 
he  still  remained,  and  held  his  ground  valiantly.  Finally  the 
most  desperate  of  them  called  me  to  one  side,  and  implored 
my  championship.  He  complained  bitterly  that  he  never 

279 


280  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

began  to  say  what  trembled  on  his  tongue  but  one  of  those 
interfering  fellows  appeared  and  interrupted  him,  and  now, 
as  the  time  was  passing,  there  remained  but  one  chance  be- 
fore he  went  home,  where  he  would  again  be  among  a  dozen 
other  men  who  were  sure  to  get  in  his  way.  He  said  he  had 
thought  over  every  plan,  and  if  I  would  engage  the  interfer- 
ing ones  for  a  half  hour,  he  would  take  Diana  to  the  hotel 
cupola,  ostensibly  to  see  the  view,  and  if,  after  they  were  up 
there,  she  saw  anything  but  him,  it  would  not  be  his  fault; 
for  say  his  say  he  must.  No  one  could  resist  such  a  piteous 
appeal,  sol  engaged  the  supernumerary  men  in  conversation 
as  best  I  could,  talking  against  time  and  eyeing  the  door  as 
anxiously  as  they  did.  I  knew,  when  the  pair  returned,  that 
the  pent-up  avowal  had  found  utterance;  but  tne  coquetting 
lass  had  left  him  in  such  a  state  of  uncertainty  that  even 
"  fleeing  to  the  house-top  "  had  not  secured  his  future.  So 
it  went  on,  suspense  and  agitation  increasing  in  the  perturb- 
ed hearts,  but  the  dallying  of  this  coy  and  skillful  strategist, 
wise  beyond  her  years  in  some  ways,  seemed  to  prove  that 
she  believed  what  is  often  said,  that  a  man  is  more  blissful 
in  uncertainty  than  in  possession. 

Our  table  was  rarely  without  guests  at  that  time.  A  great 
many  of  the  strangers  came  with  letters  of  introduction  to 
us,  and  the  General  superintended  the  arrangements  for  buf- 
falo-hunts, if  they  were  to  be  in  the  vicinity  of  our  post. 
Among  the  distinguished  visitors  was  Prince  Ourosoff, 
nephew  of  the  Emperor  of  Russia.  He  was  but  a  lad,  and  only 
knew  that  if  he  came  west  far  enough,  he  was  very  likely  to 
find  what  the  atlas  put  down  as  the  "  Great  American  Des- 
ert." None  of  us  could  tell  him  much  more  of  the  Sahara 
of  America  than  of  his  own  steppes  in  Russia.  As  the  years 
have  advanced,  the  maps  have  shifted  that  imaginary  desert 
from  side  to  side.  The  pioneer  does  such  wonders  in  culti- 
vating what  was  then  supposed  to  be  a  barren  waste,  that  we 
bid  fair  in  time  not  to  have  any  Sahara  at  all.  I  hardly  won- 
der now  at  the  surprise  this  royal  scion  expressed  at  finding 
himself  among  men  and  women  who  kept  up  the  amenities 


THE  COURSE  OF  TRUE  LOVE.       28 1 

of  refined  life,  even  when  living  in  that  subterranean  home 
which  our  Government  provided  for  its  defenders — the  dug- 
out. It  seems  strange  enough,  that  those  of  us  who  lived 
the  rough  life  of  Kansas's  early  days,  did -not  entirely  adopt 
the  careless,  unconventional  existence  of  the  pioneer,  but 
military  discipline  is  something  not  easily  set  aside. 

Almost  our  first  excursionists  were  such  a  success  that  we 
wished  they  might  be  duplicated  in  those  who  flocked  out 
there  in  after  years.  Several  of  the  party  were  old  travelers, 
willing  to  undergo  hardships  and  encounter  dangers  to  see 
the  country  before  it  was  overrun  with  tourists.  They  were 
our  guests,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  beguiled  our  time 
made  their  departure  a  real  regret.  They  called  themselves 
"  Gideon's  Band."  The  youngest  of  the  party,  a  McCook, 
from  the  fighting  Ohio  family,  was  "Old  Gid,"  while  the 
oldest  of  all  answered  when  they  called  "Young  Gid."  As 
they  were  witty,  clever,  conversant  by  actual  experience  with 
most  things  that  we  only  read  of  in  the  papers,  we  found 
them  a  godsend. 

When  such  people  thanked  us  for  what  simple  hospitality 
we  could  offer,  it  almost  came  as  a  surprise,  for  we  felt  our- 
selves their  debtors.  After  having  written  to  this  point  in 
my  narrative  of  our  gay  visit  from  Gideon's  Band,  a  letter  in 
response  to  one  that  I  had  sent  to  Mr.  Charles  G.  Leland 
arrived  from  London.  I  asked  him  about  his  poem,  and 
after  twenty  years,  in  which  we  never  saw  him,  he  recalls 
with  enthusiasm  his  short  stay  with  us.  I  have  only  elimi- 
nated some  descriptions  that  he  gives  in  the  extract  of  the 
private  letter  sent  then  from  Fort  Riley— descriptions  of  the 
wife  of  the  commanding  officer  and  the  pretty  Diana. 
Women  being  in  the  minority,  it  was  natural  that  we  were 
never  undervalued.  Grateful  as  I  am  that  he  should  so  high- 
ly appreciate  officers'  wives,  and  much  as  I  prize  what  he  says 
regarding  "  the  influences  that  made  a  man,  and  kept  him 
what  he  was,"  I  must  reserve  for  Mr.  Leland 's  correspondent 
of  twenty  years  back,  and  for  myself,  his  opinion  of  frontier 
women. 


282  TENTING    ON   THE    PLAINS. 

"  LANGHAM  HOTEL,  PORTLAND  PLACE, 
"  LONDON,  W.,  June  14,  1887. 

"  DEAR  MRS.  CUSTER: — It  is  a  thousand  times  more  likely  that 
you  should  forget  me  than  that  I  should  ever  forget  you,  though 
it  were  at  an  interval  of  twice  twenty  years;  the  more  so  since  I 
have  read  your  admirable  book,  which  has  revived  in  me  the 
memory  of  one  of  the  strangest  incidents  and  some  of  the  most 
agreeable  impressions  of  a  somewhat  varied  and  eventful  life.  I 
was  with  a  party  of  gentlemen  who  had  gone  out  to  what  was  then 
the  most  advanced  surveyor's  camp  for  the  Pacific  Railway,  in 
western  Kansas.  On  returning,  we  found  ourselves  one  evening 
about  a  mile  from  Fort  Riley,  where  we  were  to  be  the  guests  of 
yourself  and  your  husband.  We  had  been  all  day  in  a  so-called 
ambulance  or  wagon.  The  one  that  I  shared  with  my  friend, 
J.  R.  G.  Hassard,  of  the  New  York  Tribune,  was  driven  by  a 
very  intelligent  and  amusing  frontiersman,  deeply  experienced  in 
Indian  and  Mexican  life,  named  Brigham.  Brigham  thought,  by 
mistake,  that  we  had  all  gone  to  Fort  Riley  by  some  other  con- 
veyance, and  he  was  thirty  or  forty  yards  in  advance,  driving  on 
rapidly.  We,  encumbered  with  blankets,  packs  and  arms,  had  no 
mind  to  walk  when  we  could  '  wagon.'  One  man  whistled,  and 
all  roared  aloud.  Then  one  discharged  his  rifle.  But  the  wind 
was  blowing  away  from  Brigham  towards  us,  and  he  heard  noth- 
ing. The  devil  put  an  idea  in  my  head,  for  which  I  have  had 
many  a  regret  since  then.  Infandum  reginajubes  renovare  dolor  em. 
('  Thou,  my  queen,  dost  command  me  to  revive  a  wretched  sor- 
row.') For  it  occurred  that  I  could  send  a  rifle-ball  so  near  to 
Brigham's  head  that  he  could  hear  the  whistle,  and  that  this  would 
very  naturally  cause  him  to  stop.  If  I  could  only  know  all,  I 
would  sooner  have  aimed  between  my  own  eyes. 

"  '  Give  me  a  gun,'  I  said  to  Colonel  Lambourn. 

"  '  You  won't  shoot  at  him! '  said  the  Colonel. 

"'If  you'll  insure  the  mules,'  I  replied,  'I  will  insure  the 
driver.' 

"  I  took  aim  and  fired.  The  ambulance  was  covered,  and  I  did 
not  know  that  Mr.  Hassard,  the  best  fellow  in  the  world — nemini 
secundus — was  sitting  inside  and  talking  to  Brigham.  The  bullet 
passed  between  their  faces,  which  were  a  foot  apart — less  rather 
than  more. 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE\  283 

'"  What  is  that?'  cried  Hassard. 

"  '  Injuns!  '  replied  Brigham,  who  knew  by  many  an  experience 
how  wagons  were  Apached,  Comanchied,  or  otherwise  aborigi- 
nated. 

"  '  Lay  down  flat!' 

"  He  drove  desperately  till  he  thought  he  was  out  of  shot,  and 
then  put  out  his  head  to  give  the  Indians  a  taunting  war-whoop. 
I  shall  never  forget  the  appearance  of  that  sunburned  face,  with 
gold  ear-rings  and  a  vast  sombrero!  What  was  his  amazement  at 
seeing  only  friends!  I  did  not  know  what  Brigham's  state  of 
mind  might  be  toward  me,  but  I  remembered  that  he  gloried  in 
his  familiarity  with  Spanish,  so  I  said  to  him  in  the  Castile-soap 
dialect,  '  I  fired  that  shot;  is  it  to  be  hand  or  knife  between  us?' 
It  is  to  his  credit  that  he  at  once  shook  my  hand,  and  said,  '  La 
mano! '  He  drove  on  in  grim  silence,  and  then  said,  '  I've  driven 
for  twelve  years  on  this  frontier,  but  I  never  heard,  before,  of 
anybody  trying  to  stop  one  by  shooting  the  driver.' 

"  Another  silence,  broken  by  the  following  remark:  '  I  wish  to 
God  there  was  a  gulch  any  where  between  here  and  the  fort!  I'd 
upset  this  party  into  it  d n  quick.' 

"  But  I  had  a  great  fear.  It  was  of  General  Custer  and  what 
he  would  have  to  say  to  me,  for  recklessly  imperiling  the  life  of 
one  of  his  drivers,  to  say  nothing  of  what  might  have  happened 
to  a  valuable  team  of  mules  and  the  wagon.  It  was  with  per- 
turbed feelings — and,  ay  de  mi!  with  an  evil  conscience — that  I 
approached  him.  He  had  been  informed  of  the  incident,  but  was 
neither  angry  nor  vindictive.  All  he  did  was  to  utter  a  hearty 
laugh  and  say,  '  I  never  heard  before  of  such  an  original  way  of 
ringing  a  bell  to  call  a  man.' 

"  In  a  letter  written  about  this  time  to  a  friend,  I  find  the  fol- 
lowing: 

"  'We  had  not  for  many  days  seen  a  lady.  Indeed,  the  only 
woman  I  had  met  for  more  than  a  week  was  a  poor,  sad  soul, 
who,  with  her  two  child-daughters,  had  just  been  brought  in  by 
Lieutenant  Hesselberger  from  a  six-months'  captivity  of  outrage 
and  torture  among  the  Apaches.  You  may  imagine  how  I  was  im- 
pressed with  Mrs.  General  Custer  and  her  friend,  Miss .  .  . 

"  '  General  Custer  is  an  ideal — the  ideal  of  frank  chivalry,  un- 
affected, genial  humor,  and  that  earnestness  allied  to  originality 


284  *    TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  best  kind  of  Western  army  man. 
I  have  not,  in  all  my  life,  met  with  so  many  interesting  types  of 
character,  as  during  this,  my  first  journey  to  Kansas,  but  first 
among  all,  I  place  this  trio. 

"  '  In  the  evening  a  great  musical  treat  awaited  me.  I  had  once 
passed  six  months  in  Bavaria,  where  I  had  learned  to  love  the 
zither.  This  instrument  was  about  as  well  known  twenty  years 
ago  in  America,  as  a  harp  of  a  thousand  strings.  But  there  was 
at  the  fort  a  Bavarian  soldier,  who  played  charmingly  on  it,  and 
he  was  brought  in.  I  remember  asking  him  for  many  of  his  best- 
loved  airs.  The  General  and  his  wife  impressed  me  as  two  of 
the  best  entertainers  of  guests  whom  I  ever  met.  The  perfection 
of  this  rare  talent  is,  to  enjoy  yourself  while  making  others  at 
their  ease  and  merry,  and  the  proof  lies  in  this,  that  seldom,  in- 
deed, have  I  ever  spent  so  pleasant  an  evening  as  that  in  the  fort.' 

"  My  personal  experience  of  General  Custer  does  not  abound 
in  anecdotes,  but  is  extremely  rich  in  my  impressions  of  him,  as 
a  type  and  a  character,  both  as  man  and  gentleman.  There  is 
many  a  man  whom  I  have  met  a  thousand  times,  whom  I  hardly 
recollect  at  all,  while  I  could  never  forget  him.  He  was  not  only 
an  admirable  but  an  impressive  man.  One  would  credit  anything 
to  his  credit,  because  he  was  so  frank  and  earnest.  One  meets 
with  a  somewhat  similar  character  sometimes  among  the  Hunga- 
rians, but  just  such  a  man  is  as  rare  as  the  want  of  them  in  the 
world  is  great. 

"  With  sincere  regards,  yours  truly, 

"CHARLES  G.  LELAND." 

As  Mr.  Leland's  poem,  "  Breitmann  in  Kansas,"  was  in- 
spired partly  by  the  buffalo-hunt  and  visit  at  our  quarters,  I 
quote  a  few  stanzas:* 

"  Vonce  oopen  a  dimes,  der  Herr  Breitmann  vent  oud  West. 
Von  efenings  he  was  drafel  mil  some  ladies  und  shendlemans, 
und  he  shtaid  incognitus.  Und  dey  singed  songs  dill  py  and  py 
one  of  de  ladies  say:  '  Ish  any  podies  here  ash  know  de  crate 
pallad  of  "Hans  Breitmann's  Barty  ?  " '  Den  Hans  said,  'lam 

*  From  "  Hans  Breitmann's  Ballads,"  by  permission  of  Messrs. 
T.  B.  Peterson  &  Brothers,  publishers. 


THE  COURSE   OF  TRUE   LOVE.  285 

dat  rooster!'  Den  der  Hans  took  a  drink  und  a  let  pencil  und  a 
biece  of  baper,  und  goes  indo  himself  a  little  dimes,  and  den 
coomes  out  again  mit  dis  boem: 

"  Hans  Breitmann  vent  to  Kansas; 

He  drafel  fast  und  far. 
He  rided  shoost  drei  dousand  miles 

All  in  one  railroot  car. 
He  knowed  foost  rate  how  far  he  goed — 

He  gounted  all  de  vile. 
Dar  vash  shoost  one  bottle  of  champagne, 

Dat  bopped  at  efery  mile. 

"  Hans  Breitmann  vent  to  Kansas; 

He  went  in  on  de  loud. 
At  Ellsvort  in  de  prairie  land, 

He  found  a  pully  croud. 
He  looked  for  bleeding  Kansas, 

But  dat's  '  blayed  out,'  dey  say; 
De  whiskey  keg's  de  only  dings 

Dat's  bleedin'  dere  to-day. 

"  Hans  Breitmann  vent  to  Kansas; 

Py  shings!     I  dell  you  vot, 
Von  day  he  met  a  crisly  bear 

Dat  rooshed  him  down,  bei  Gott! 
Boot  der  Breitmann  took  und  bind  der  beat, 

Und  bleased  him  fery  much — 
For  efry  vordt  der  crisly  growled 

Vas  goot  Bavarian  Dutch! 

"  Hans  Breitmann  vent  to  Kansas! 

By  donder,  dat  is  so! 
He  ridit  out  upon  de  plains 

To  chase  de  boofalo. 
He  fired  his  rifle  at  de  bools, 

Und  gallop  troo  de  shmoke 
Und  shoomp  de  canyons  shoost  as  if 

Der  tyfel  vas  a  choke!" 


286  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

Not  only  were  a  large  number  of  officers  brought  together 
that  winter  from  varied  walks  in  life  and  of  different  national- 
ities, but  the  men  that  enlisted  ranged  from  the  highest  type 
of  soldier  to  the  lowest  specimens  of  humanity  recruited  in 
the  crowded  cities.  It  often  happened  that  enlisted  men 
had  served  an  honorable  record  as  officers  in  the  volunteer 
service.  Some  had  entered  the  regular  army  because  their 
life  was  broken  up  by  the  war  and  they  knew  not  how  to  be- 
gin a  new  career;  others  had  hopes  of  promotion,  on  the 
strength  of  their  war  record,  or  from  the  promises  of  in- 
fluential friends.  My  heart  is  moved  anew  as  1  recall  one 
man,  who  sank  his  name  and  individuality,  his  very  self,  it 
seemed,  by  enlistment,  and  as  effectually  disappeared  as  if  he 
had  flung  himself  into  the  river  that  rushed  by  our  post.  One 
night  there  knocked  at  the  door  of  one  of  our  officer's  quar- 
ters a  man  who,  though  in  citizen's  dress,  was  at  once  recog- 
nized as  an  old  comrade  in  the  war.  He  had  been  a  briga- 
dier-general of  volunteers.  After  he  had  been  made  wel- 
come, he  gave  some  slight  account  of  himself,  and  then  said 
he  had  about  made  up  his  mind  to  enlist.  Our  Seventh 
Cavalry  officer  implored  him  not  to  think  of  such  a  thing, 
pictured  the  existence  of  a  man  of  education  and  refinement 
in  such  surroundings,  and  offered  him  financial  help,  should 
that  be  needed.  He  finally  found  the  subject  was  adroitly 
withdrawn,  and  the  conversation  went  back  to  old  times. 
They  talked  on  in  this  friendly  manner  until  midnight,  and 
then  parted.  The  next  day  a  soldier  in  fresh,  bright  blue 
uniform,  passed  the  officer,  formally  saluting  as  he  went  by, 
and  to  his  consternation  he  discovered  in  this  enlisted  man 
his  friend  of  the  night  before.  They  never  met  again;  the 
good-byof  the  midnight  hour  was  in  reality  the  farewell  that 
one  of  them  had  intended  it  to  be. 

This  is  but  one  of  many  instances  where  superior  men,  for 
one  reason  or  another,  get  into  the  ranks  of  our  army.  If 
they  are  fortunate  enough  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  consid- 
erate officers,  their  lot  is  endurable;  but  to  be  assigned  to 
one  who  is  unjust  and  overbearing  is  a  miserable  existence. 


THE  COl'KSE  OF  TRUE  LOVE. 


One  of  our  finest  men  was  so  con- 
stantly looking,  in  his  soldiers,  for 
the  same  qualities  that  he  possess- 
ed, and  insisted  so  upon  the  su- 
periority of  his  men  that  the  offi- 
cers were  wont  to  exclaim  in  good- 
natured  irony,  "Oh,  yes,  we  all 
know  that  Hamilton's  company  is 
made  up  of  dukes  and  earls  in 
disguise." 

There  were  some  clever  rogues 
among  the  enlisted  men,  and  the 
officers  were  as  yet  scarcely  able 
to  cope  with  the  cunning  of  those 
who  doubtless  had  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  courts  of  justice 
and  prisons  in  the  Eastern  States. 
The  recruiting  officer  in  the  cities 
is  not  compelled,  as  in  other  occu- 
pations, to  ask  a  character  from 
a  former  employer.  The  Govern- 
ment demands  able-bodied  men, 
and  the  recruiting  sergeant  casts 
his  critical  eye  over  the  anatom- 


288  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

ical  outlines,  as  he  would  over  the  good  points  of  a  horse 
destined  for  the  same  service.  The  awful  hereafter  is,  when 
the  officer  that  receives  this  physical  perfection  on  the  front- 
ier aims  to  discover  whether  it  contains  a  soul. 

Our  guard-house  at  Fort  Riley  was  outside  the  garrison  a 
short  distance,  and  held  a  goodly  number  of  violators  of  the 
regulations.  For  several  nights,  at  one  time,  strange  sounds 
for  such  a  place  issued  from  the  walls.  Religion  in  the 
noisiest  form  seemed  to  have  taken  up  its  permanent  abode 
there,  and  for  three  hours  at  a  time  singing,  shouting  and 
loud  praying  went  on.  There  was  every  appearance  of  a  re- 
vival among  those  trespassers.  The  officer  of  the  day,  in 
making  his  rounds,  had  no  comment  to  pass  upon  this  re- 
markable transition  from  card-playing  and  wrangling;  he  was 
doubtless  relieved  to  hear  the  voice  of  the  exhorters  as  he 
visited  the  guard,  and  indulged  in  the  belief  that  the  prison- 
ers were  out  of  mischief.  On  the  contrary,  this  vehement 
attack  of  religion  covered  up  the  worst  sort  of  roguery. 
Night  after  night  they  had  been  digging  tunnels  under  the 
stone  foundation-walls,  removing  boards  and  cutting  beams 
in  the  floor,  and  to  deaden  the  sound  of  the  pounding  and 
digging  some  of  their  number  were  told  off  to  sing,  pray  and 
shout.  One  morning  the  guard  opened  the  door  of  the 
rooms  in  which  the  prisoners  had  been  confined,  and  they 
were  empty!  Even  two  that  wore  ball  and  chains  for  serious 
offences  had  in  some  manner  managed  to  knock  them  off, 
as  all  had  swum  the  Smoky  Hill  River,  and  they  were  never 
again  heard  from. 

As  with  the  history  of  all  prisons,  so  it  was  of  our  little 
one.  The  greatest  rogues  were  not  incarcerated;  they  were 
too  cunning  to  be  caught.  It  often  happened  that  some  excel- 
lent soldiers  became  innocently  involved  in  a  fracas  and  were 
marched  off  to  the  guard-house,  while  the  archvillain  slipped 
into  his  place  in  the  ranks  and  answered  to  his  name  at  roll- 
call,  apparently  the  most  exemplary  of  soldiers.  Several  in- 
stances of  what  I  thought  to  be  unjust  imprisonment  came 
directly  under  my  notice,  and  I  may  have  been  greatly  in- 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  289 

fluenced  by  Eliza's  pleas  in  their  behalf.  We  made  the  ef- 
fort, and  succeeded  in  extricating  one  man  from  his  im- 
prisonment. Whether  he  was  in  reality  wronged,  or  had  only 
worked  upon  our  sympathies,  will  never  be  known,  but  he 
certainly  made  an  excellent  soldier  from  that  time  until  the 
end  of  his  enlistment.  Eliza,  in  her  own  quaint  way,  is  say- 
ing to  me  now:  "  Do  you  mind,  Miss  Libbie,  how  me  and 

you  got  J his  parole  ?     He  used  to  come  to  our  house 

with  the  rest  of  the  prisoners,  to  police  the  yard  and  cut  the 
wood,  and  they  used  to  hang  round  my  door;  the  guard 
could  hardly  get  'em  away.  Well,  I  reckon  he  didn't  try 
very  hard,  for  he  didn't  like  hard-tack  no  better  than  they 
did.  One  of  them  would  speak  up  the  minute  they  saw  me, 
and  say,  'Eliza,  you  hain't  got  no  hot  biscuit,  have  you?' 
Hot  biscuits  for  prisoners!  do  you  hear  that,  Miss  Libbie? 
The  Ginnel  would  be  stand  in'  at  the  back  window,  just  to 
catch  a  chance  to  laugh  at  me  if  I  gave  the  prisoners  anythin' 
to  eat.  He'd  stand  at  that  window,  movin'  from  one  foot  to 
the  other,  craning  of  his  neck,  and  when  I  did  give  any  cold 
scraps,  he  just  bided  his  time,  and  when  he  saw  me  he  would 
say,  '  Well,  been  issuin*  your  rations  again,  Eliza  ?  How 
many  apple-dumplin's  and  biscuit  did  they  get  this  time?' 
Apple-dumplin's,  Miss  Libbie!  He  jest  said  that  'cause  he 
liked  'em  better  than  anythin'  else,  and  s'posed  I'd  been  giv- 
in'  away  some  of  his.  But  as  soon  as  he  had  teased  me  about 
it,  that  was  the  end ;  he  would  go  along  about  his  way  and 
pick  up  his  book,  when  he  had  done  his  laugh.  But,  Miss 
Libbie,  he  used  to  kinder  mistrust,  if  me  and  you  was  talkin' 
one  side.  He  would  say,  '  What  you  two  conspirin'  up  now? 
Tryin'  to  get  some  one  out  of  jail,  I  s'pose.'  I  remember  how 

we  worked  for  J .     He  came  to  me  and  told  me  I  must 

'  try  to  get  Mrs.  Custer  to  work  for  him;  two  words  from  her 
would  do  him  more  good  than  all  the  rest,' and  he  would 
come'along  sideways  by  your  window,  carrying  his  ball  over 
his  arm  with  the  chain  adanglin',  and  look  so  pitiful  like,  so 
you  would  see  him  and  beg  him  off."  This  affair  ended  en- 
tirely to  Eliza's  satisfaction.  I  saw  the  captain  of  his  company; 


290  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

for  though  it  was  against  my  husband's  wish  that  I  should  have 
anything  to  do  with  official  matters,  he  did  not  object  to  this 
intervention;  he  only  laughed  at  my  credulity.  The  captain 
politely  heard  my  statement  of  what  Eliza  had  told  me  were 
J 's  wrongs,  and  gave  him  parole.  His  sentence  was  re- 
scinded eventually,  as  he  kept  his  promises  and  was  a  most 

faithful  soldier.     The  next  morning  after  J was  returned 

to  duty  and  began  life  anew,  one  of  the  young  officers  saun- 
tered into  our  quarters  and,  waving  his  hand  with  a  little 
flourish,  said,  "  I  want  to  congratulate  you  on  having  obtain- 
ed the  pardon  of  the  greatest  scamp  in  the  regiment;  he 
wouldn't  steal  a  red-hot  stove,  but  would  wait  a  mighty  long 
time  for  it  to  cool."  Later  in  my  story  is  my  husband's  men- 
tion, in  his  letters,  of  the  very  man  as  bearing  so  good  a  rec- 
ord that  he  sent  for  him  and  had  him  detailed  at  headquar- 
ters, for  nothing  in  the  world,  he  confessed,  but  because  I 
had  once  interceded  for  him. 

Eliza  kept  my  sympathies  constantly  aroused,  with  her  pit- 
eous tales  of  the  wrongs  of  the  prisoners.  They  daily  had 
her  ear,  and  she  appointed  herself  judge,  jury  and  attorney 
for  the  defense.  On  the  coldest  days,  when  we  could  not 
ride  and  the  wind  blew  so  furiously  that  we  were  not  able  to 
walk,  I  saw  from  our  windows  how  poorly  clad  they  were,  for 
they  came  daily,  under  the  care  of  the  guard,  to  cut  the  wood 
and  fill  the  water-barrels.  The  General  quietly  endured  the 
expressions  of  sympathy,  and  sometimes  my  indignant  pro- 
tests against  unjust  treatment.  He  knew  the  wrathful  spirit 
of  the  kitchen  had  obeyed  the  natural  law  that  heat  must 
rise,  and  treated  our  combined  rages  over  the  prisoners' 
wrongs  with  aggravating  calmness.  Knowing  more  about 
the  guard-house  occupants  than  I  did,  he  was  fortified  by 
facts  that  saved  him  from  expending  his  sympathies  in  the 
wrong  direction.  He  only  smiled  at  the  plausible  stories  by 
which  Eliza  was  first  taken  in  at  the  kitchen  door.  They 
lost  nothing  by  transmission,  as  she  had  quite  an  imagination 
and  decidedly  a  dramatic  delivery;  and  finally,  when  I  told 
the  tale,  trying  to  perform  the  monstrously  hard  feat  of  telling 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  2QI 

it  as  it  was  told  to  me,  youth,  inexperience  and  an  emotional 
temperament  made  a  narrative  so  absolutely  distressing  that 
the  General  was  likely  to  come  over  bodily  to  our  side,  had 
he  not  recalled  the  details  of  the  court-martial  that  had  tried 
the  soldier.  We  were  routed,  yet  not  completely,  for  we  fell 
back  upon  his  clothes,  and  pleaded  that,  though  he  was 
thought  to  be  wicked,  he  might  be  permitted  to  be  warm. 
But  the  colored  and  white  troops  had  to  leave  the  field, 
"horse,  foot  and  dragoons,"  when,  on  investigation,  we 
found  that  the  man  for  whom  we  pleaded  had  gambled  away 
his  very  shirt. 

The  unmoved  manner  in  which  my  husband  listened  to 
different  accounts  of  supposed  cruelty — dropping  his  beloved 
newspaper  with  the  injured  air  that  men  assume,  while  I  sat 
by  him,  half  crying,  gesticulating,  thoroughly  roused  in  my 
defense  of  the  injured  one — was  exasperating,  to  say  the 
least;  and  then,  at  last,  to  have  this  bubble  of  assumed 
championship  burst,  and  see  him  launch  into  such  uproarious 
conduct  when  he  found  that  the  man  for  whom  I  pleaded 
was  the  archrogue  of  all— oh,  women  alone  can  picture  to 
themselves  what  the  situation  must  have  been  to  poor  me! 

After  one  of  these  seasons  of  good-natured  scoffing  over 
the  frequency  with  which  I  was  taken  in,  I  mentally  resolved 
that,  though  the  proof  I  heard  of  the  soldier's  depravity  was 
too  strong  for  me  to  ignore,  there  was  no  contesting  the  fact 
that  the  criminal  was  cold,  and  if  I  had  failed  in  freeing  him 
I  might  at  least  provide  against  his  freezing.  He  was  at  that 
time  buttoning  a  ragged  blouse  up  to  his  chin,  not  only  for 
warmth,  but  because  in  his  evening  game  of  poker,  his  com- 
rade had  won  the  undergarment,  quite  superfluous,  he 
thought,  while  warmed  by  the  guard-house  fire.  I  proceeded  to 
shut  myself  in  our  room,  and  go  through  the  General's  trunk 
for  something  warm.  The  selection  that  I  made  was  un- 
fortunate. There  were  some  navy  shirts  of  blue  flannel  that 
had  been  procured  with  considerable  trouble  from  a  gunboat 
in  the  James  River  the  last  year  of  the  war,  the  like  of  which, 
in  quality  and  durability,  could  not  be  found  in  any  shop. 


292  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

The  material  was  so  good  that  they  neither  shrunk  nor  pull- 
ed out  of  shape.  The  broad  collar  had  a  star  embroidered 
in  solid  silk  in  either  corner.  The  General  had  bought  these 
for  their  durability,  but  they  proved  to  be  a  picturesque  ad- 
dition to  his  gay  dress;  and  the  red  necktie  adopted  by  his 
entire  Third  Division  of  Cavalry  gave  a  dash  of  vivid  color, 
while  the  yellow  hair  contrasted  with  the  dark  blue  of  the 
flannel.  The  gunboats  were  overwhelmed  with  applications 
to  buy,  as  his  Division  wished  to  adopt  this  feature  of  his 
dress  also,  and  military  tailors  had  many  orders  to  reproduce 
what  the  General  had  "lighted  upon,"  as  the  officers  ex- 
pressed it,  by  accident.  Really,  there  was  no  color  so  good 
for  campaigning,  as  it  was  hard  to  harmonize  any  gray  tint 
with  the  different  blues  of  the  uniform.  Men  have  a  way  of 
saying  that  we  women  never  seize  their  things,  for  barter  or 
other  malevolent  purposes,  without  selecting  what  they  es- 
pecially prize.  But  the  General  really  had  reason  to  dote 
upon  these  shirts. 

The  rest  of  the  story  scarcely  needs  telling.  Many  injured 
husbands,  whose  wardrobes  have  been  -confiscated  for  elee- 
mosynary purposes,  will  join  in  a  general  wail.  The  men 
that  wear  one  overcoat  in  early  spring,  and  carry  another 
over  their  arm  to  their  offices,  uncertain,  if  they  did  not  ob- 
serve this  precaution,  that  the  coming  winter  would  not  find 
these  garments  mysteriously  metamorphosed  into  lace  on  a 
gown,  or  mantel  ornaments,  may  fill  in  all  that  my  story  fails 
to  tell.  In  the  General's  case,  it  was  perhaps  more  than 
ordinarily  exasperating.  It  was  not  that  a  creature  who  bar- 
gains for  "  gentlemen's  cast-offs "  had  possession  of  some- 
thing that  a  tailor  could  not  readily  replace,  but  we  were  then 
too  far  out  on  the  Plains  to  buy  even  ordinary  blue  flannel. 

As  I  remember  myself  half  buried  in  the  trunk  of  the  com- 
manding officer,  and  suddenly  lifted  into  the  air  with  a  shirt 
in  one  hand,  my  own  escape  from  the  guard-house  seems 
miraculous.  As  it  was,  I  was  let  off  very  lightly,  ignoring 
some  remarks  about  its  being  "a  pretty  high-handed  state 
of  affairs,  that  compels  a  man  to  lock  his  trunk  in  his  own 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  293 

family;  and  that,  between  Tom's  pilfering  and  his  wife's,  the 
commanding  officer  would  soon  be  obliged  to  receive  official 
reports  in  bed." 

There  was  very  little  hunting  about  Fort  Riley  in  the  win- 
ter. The  General  had  shot  a  great  many  prairie  chickens  in 
the  autumn,  and  hung  them  in  the  wood-house,  and  while 
they  lasted  we  were  not  entirely  dependent  on  Government 
beef.  As  the  season  advanced,  we  had  only  ox-tail  soup  and 
beef.  Although  the  officers  were  allowed  to  buy  the  best 
cuts,  the  cattle  that  supplied  the  post  with  meat  were  far 
from  being  in  good  condition.  One  day  our  table  was 
crowded  with  officers,  some  of  whom  had  just  reported  for 
duty.  The  usual  great  tureen  of  soup  was  disposed  of,  and 
the  servant  brought  in  an  immense  platter,  on  which  gener- 
ally reposed  a  large  roast.  But  when  the  dish  was  placed 
before  the  General,  to  my  dismay  there  appeared  in  the  cen- 
tre of  its  wide  circumference  a  steak  hardly  larger  than  a  man's 
hand.  It  was  a  painful  situation,  and  I  blushed,  gazed  un- 
easily at  the  new-comers,  but  hesitated  about  apologies  as 
they  were  my  husband's  detestation.  He  relieved  us  from 
the  awful  silence  that  fell  upon  all,  by  a  peal  of  laughter  that 
shook  the  table  and  disturbed  the  poor  little  steak  in  its 
lonesome  bed.  Eliza  thrust  her  head  in  at  the  door,  and  ex- 
plained that  the  cattle  had  stampeded,  and  the  commissary 
could  not  get  them  back  in  time  to  kill,  as  they  did  daily  at 
the  post.  The  General  was  perfectly  unmoved,  calling  those 
peculiar  staccato  "all  right!"  "all  right!"  to  poor  Eliza, 
setting  affairs  at  ease  again,  and  asking  the  guests  to  do  the 
best  they  could  with  the  vegetables,  bread  and  butter,  coffee 
and  dessert. 

The  next  day  beef  returned  to  our  table,  but,  alas  !  the  po- 
tatoes gave  out,  and  I  began  to  be  disturbed  about  my  house- 
wifely duties.  My  husband  begged  me  not  to  give  it  a 
thought,  saying  that  Eliza  would  pull  us  through  the  tem- 
porary famine  satisfactorily,  and  adding,  that  what  was  good 
enough  for  us  was  good  enough  for  our  guests.  But  an  at- 
tack of  domestic  responsibility  was  upon  me,  and  I  insisted 


294  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

upon  going  to  the  little  town  near  us.  Under  any  circum- 
stances the  General  opposed  my  entering  its  precincts,  as  it 
was  largely  inhabited  by  outlaws  and  desperadoes,  and  to  go 
for  so  small  a  consideration  as  marketing  was  entirely  against 
his  wishes.  I  paid  dearly  for  my  persistence;  for  when,  after 
buying  what  I  could  at  the  stores,  I  set  out  to  return,  the 
chain  bridge  on  which  I  had  crossed  the  river  in  the  morn- 
ing had  been  swept  away,  and  the  roaring  torrent,  that  had 
risen  above  the  high  banks,  was  plunging  along  its  furious 
way,  bearing  earth  and  trees  in  its  turbid  flood.  I  spent  sev- 
eral dreary  hours  on  the  bank,  growing  more  uneasy  and  re- 
morseful all  the  time.  The  potatoes  and  eggs  that  so  short 
a  time  since  I  had  triumphantly  secured,  seemed  more  and 
more  hateful  to  me,  as  I  looked  at  them  lying  in  the  basket 
in  the  bottom  of  the  ambulance.  I  made  innumerable  re- 
solves that,  so  long  as  my  husband  did  not  wish  me  to  con- 
cern myself  about  providing  for  our  table,  I  never  would 
attempt  it  again;  but  all  these  resolutions  could  not  bring 
back  the  bridge,  and  I  had  to  take  the  advice  of  one  of  our 
officers,  who  was  also  waiting  to  cross,  and  go  back  to  the 
house  of  one  of  the  merchants  who  sold  supplies  to  the  post. 
His  wife  was  very  hospitable,  as  frontier  men  and  women 
invariably  are,  and  next  morning  I  was  down  on  the  bank  of 
the  river  early,  more  impatient  than  ever  to  cross.  What 
made  the  detention  more  exasperating  was  that  the  buildings 
of  the  garrison  on  the  plateau  were  plainly  visible  from  where 
we  waited.  Then  ensued  the  most  foolhardy  conduct  on  my 
part,  and  so  terrified  the  General  when  I  told  him  afterward, 
that  I  came  near  never  being  trusted  alone  again.  The  most 
vexing  part  of  it  all  was  that  I  involved  the  officer,  who  was 
in  town  by  accident,  in  imminent  danger,  for  when  he  heard 
what  I  was  determined  to  do,  he  had  no  alternative  but  to 
second  my  scheme,  as  no  persuasion  was  of  any  avail.  I  in- 
duced a  sergeant  in  charge  of  a  small  boat  to  take  me  over. 
I  was  frantic  to  get  home,  as  for  some  time  preparations  had 
been  going  on  for  a  summer  campaign,  and  I  had  kept  it  out 
of  our  day  as  much  as  I  could. 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  295 

The  General  never  anticipated  trouble,  reasoning  that  it 
was  bad  enough  when  it  came,  and  we  both  felt  that  every 
hour  must  hold  what  it  could  of  enjoyment,  and  not  be  dark- 
ened a  moment  if  we  could  help  it.  The  hours  of  delay  on 
the  bank  were  almost  insupportable,  as  each  one  was  shorten- 
ing precious  time.  I  could  not  help  telling  the  sergeant  this, 
and  he  yielded  to  my  entreaties — for  what  soldier  ever  refused 
our  appeals  ?  The  wind  drove  through  the  trees  on  the  bank, 
lashing  the  limbs  to  and  fro  and  breaking  off  huge  branches, 
and  it  required  almost  superhuman  strength  to  hold  the  frail 
boat  to  the  slippery  landing  long  enough  to  lift  me  in.  The 
soldier  at  the  prow  held  in  his  muscular  hands  a  pole  with  an 
iron  pin  at  the  end,  with  which  he  used  all  his  energy  to  push 
away  the  floating  logs  that  threatened  to  swamp  us.  It  was 
almost  useless  to  attempt  to  steer,  as  the  river  had  a  current 
that  it  was  impossible  to  stem.  The  only  plan  was  to  push 
out  into  the  stream  filled  with  debris,  and  let  the  current 
shoot  the  boat  far  down  the  river,  aiming  for  a  bend  in  its 
shores  on  the  opposite  side.  I  closed  my  eyes  to  the  wild 
rush  of  water  on  all  sides,  shuddering  at  the  shouts  of  the 
soldiers,  who  tried  to  make  themselves  heard  above  the  deaf- 
ening clamor  of  the  tempest.  I  could  not  face  our  danger 
and  retain  my  self-control,  and  I  was  tortured  by  the  thought 
of  having  brought  peril  to  others.  I  owed  my  life  to  the  strong 
and  supple  arms  of  the  sergeant  and  the  stalwart  soldier  who 
assisted  him,  for  with  a  spring  they  caught  the  limbs  of  an 
overhanging  tree,  just  at  the  important  moment  when  our 
little  craft  swung  near  the  bank  at  the  river  bend,  and,  clutch- 
ing at  branches  and  rocks,  we  were  pulled  to  the  shore  and 
safely  landed.  Why  the  brave  sergeant  even  listened  to  such 
a  wild  proposition  I  do  not  know.  It  was  the  maddest  sort 
of  recklessness  to  attempt  such  a  crossing,  and  the  man  had 
nothing  to  gain.  With  the  strange,  impassable  gulf  that 
separates  a  soldier  from  his  officers  and  their  families,  my 
imploring  to  be  taken  over  the  river,  and  my  overwhelming 
thanks  afterward,  were  the  only  words  he  would  ever  hear 
me  speak.  With  the  officer  who  shared  the  peril,  it  was  dif- 


296  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

ferent.  When  we  sat  around  the  fireside  again,  he  was  the 
hero  of  the  hour.  The  gratitude  of  the  officers,  the  thanks 
of  the  women  putting  themselves  in  my  place  and  giving  him 
praise  for  encountering  danger  for  another,  were  some  sort 
of  compensation.  The  poor  sergeant  had  nothing;  he  went 
back  to  the  barracks,  and  sank  his  individuality  in  the  ranks, 
where  the  men  look  so  alike  in  their  uniform  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  distinguish  the  soldier  that  has  acted  the  hero 
from  one  who  is  never  aught  but  a  poltroon.  After  the  ex- 
citement of  the  peril  I  had  passed  was  over,  I  no  longer  won- 
dered that  there  was-such  violent  opposition  to  women  trav- 
eling with  troops.  The  lesson  lasted  me  a  long  time,  as  I 
was  well  aware  what  planning  and  preparation  it  cost  to  take 
us  women  along,  in  any  case,  when  the  regiment  was  on  the 
move,  and  to  make  these  efforts  more  difficult  by  my  own 
heedlessness  was  too  serious  a  mistake  to  be  repeated. 

In  spite  of  the  drawbacks  to  a  perfectly  successful  garrison, 
which  was  natural  in  the  early  career  of  a  regiment,  the  win- 
ter had  been  full  of  pleasure  to  me;  but  it  came  to  a  sad  end- 
ing when  the  preparations  for  the  departure  of  the  troops 
began.  The  stitches  that  I  put  in  the  repairs  to  the  blue 
flannel  shirts  were  set  with  tears.  I  eagerly  sought  every  op- 
portunity to  prepare  the  camping  outfit.  The  mess-chest 
was  filled  with  a  few  strong  dishes,  sacks  were  made  and  filled 
with  coffee,  sugar,  flour,  rice,  etc. ,  and  a  few  cans  of  fruit  and 
vegetables  were  packed  away  in  the  bottom  of  the  chest. 
The  means  of  transportation  were  so  limited  that  every  pound 
of  baggage  was  a  matter  of  consideration,  and  my  husband 
took  some  of  the  space  that  I  thought  ought  to  be  devoted 
to  comforts,  for  a  few  books  that  admitted  of  reading  and  re- 
reading. Eliza  was  the  untiring  one  in  preparing  the  outfit 
for  the  summer.  She  knew  just  when  to  administer  comfort- 
ing words,  as  I  sighed  over  the  preparations,  and  reminded 
me  that  "the  Ginnel  always  did  send  for  you  every  chance 
he  got,  and  war  times  on  the  Plains  wa'n't  no  wuss  than  in 
Virginia." 

There  was  one  joke  that  came  up  at  every  move  we  ever 


TROPHIES   OF   THE   CHASE   IN   GENERAL  CUSTER*S   LIBRARY. 
297 


298  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

made,  over  which  the  General  was  always  merry.  The  offi- 
cers, in  and  out  of  our  quarters  daily,  were  wont  to  observe 
the  unusual  alacrity  that  I  displayed  when  orders  came  to 
move.  As  I  had  but  little  care  or  anxiety  about  household 
affairs,  the  contrast  with  my  extreme  interest  in  the  arrange- 
ments of  the  mess-chest,  bedding  and  campaigning  clothes 
was  certainly  marked.  I  longed  for  activity,  to  prevent  me 
from  showing  my  heavy  heart,  and  really  did  learn  to  be 
somewhat  successful  in  crowding  a  good  deal  into  a  small 
space,  and  choosing  the  things  that  were  most  necessary. 
As  the  officers  came  in  unannounced,  they  found  me  flying 
hither  and  thither,  intent  on  my  duties,  and  immediately  saw 
an  opportunity  to  tease  the  General,  condoling  with  him  be- 
cause, having  exhausted  himself  in  arduous  packing  for  the 
campaign,  he  would  be  obliged  to  set  out  totally  unfitted  for 
the  summer's  hardships.  After  their  departure,  he  was  sure 
to  turn  to  me,  with  roguery  in  his  voice,  and  asked  if  I  had 
noticed  how  sorry  all  those  young  fellows  were  for  a  man  who 
was  obliged  to  work  so  hard  to  get  his  traps  ready  to  move. 

It  was  amusing  to  notice  the  indifferent  manner  in  which 
some  of  the  officers  saw  the  careful  and  frugal  preparing  for 
the  campaign.  That  first  spring's  experience  was  repeated 
in  every  after  preparation.  There  were  always  those  who 
took  little  or  nothing  themselves,  but  became  experts  at  casual 
droppings  in  to  luncheon  or  dinner  with  some  painstaking 
provider,  who  endeavored  vainly  to  get  himself  out  of  sight 
when  the  halt  came  for  eating.  This  little  scheme  was  oc- 
casionally persisted  in  merely  to  annoy  one  who,  having  shown 
some  signs  of  parsimony,  needed  discipline  in  the  eyes  of 
those  who  really  did  "a  great  deal  of  good  by  their  ridicule. 
Among  one  group  of  officers,  who  had  planned  to  mess  to- 
gether, the  only  provision  was  a  barrel  of  eggs.  It  is  only 
necessary  to  follow  a  cavalry  column  over  the  crossing  of  one 
creek,  to  know  the  exact  condition  that  such  perishable  food 
would  be  in  at  the  end  of  the  first  day.  There  were  two  of 
the  "  plebes,"  as  the  youngest  of  the  officers  were  called — as 
I  recall  them,  bright,  boyish,  charming  fellows — who  openly 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  299 

rebelled  against  the  rebuffs  they  claimed  were  given  them, 
when  they  attempted  to  practice  the  dropping-in  plan  at 
another's  meals. 

After  one  of  these  sallies  on  the  enemy,  they  met  the  re- 
pulse with  the  announcement  that  if  "those  stingy  old  molly- 
coddles thought  they  had  nothing  to  eat  in  their  own  outfit, 
they  would  show  them,"  and  took  the  occasion  of  one  of 
their  birthdays  to  prove  that  their  resources  were  unlimited. 
Though  the  two  endeavored  to  conceal  the  hour  and  place 
of  this  fete,  a  persistent  watcher  discovered  that  the  birthday 
breakfast  consisted  of  a  bottle  of  native  champagne  and  corn 
bread.  The  hospitality  of  officers  is  too  well  known  to  make 
it  necessary  to  explain  that  those  with  any  tendency  to  penu- 
riousness  were  exceptions.  An  army  legend  is  in  existence 
of  an  officer  who  would  not  allow  his  hospitality  to  be  set 
aside,  even  though  he  was  very  short  of  supplies.  Being  an 
officer  of  the  old  army,  he  was  as  formal  over  his  repast  as  if 
it  were  abundant,  and,  with  all  ceremony,  had  his  servant  pass 
the  rice.  The  guest,  thinking  it  the  first  course,  declined, 
whereupon  the  host,  rather  offended,  replied,  "Well,  if  you 
don't  like  the  rice,  help  yourself  to  the  mustard."  This  be- 
ing the  only  other  article  on  the  bill  of  fare,  there  need  be 
no  doubt  as  to  his  final  choice.  When  several  officers  decide 
to  mess  together  on  a  campaign,  each  one  promises  to  pro- 
vide some  one  necessary  supply.  On  one  of  these  occasions, 
after  the  first  day's  march  was  ended,  and  orders  for  dinner 
were  given  to  the  servant,  it  was  discovered  that  all  but  one 
had  exercised  his  own  judgment  regarding  what  was  the  most 
necessary  provision  for  comfort,  and  the  one  that  had  brought 
a  loaf  of  bread  instead  of  a  demijohn  of  whiskey  was  berated 
for  his  choice. 

In  the  first  days  of  frontier  life,  our  people  knew  but  little 
about  preparations  for  the  field,  and  it  took  some  time  to 
realize  that  they  were  in  a  land  where  they  could  not  live 
jpon  the  country.  It  was  a  severe  and  lasting  lesson  to  those 
ising  tobacco,  when  they  found  themselves  without  it,  and 
so  far  from  civilization  that  there  was  no  opportunity  of  re- 


300  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

plenishing  their  supply.  On  the  return  from  the  expedition, 
the  injuries  as  well  as  the  enjoyments  are  narrated.  Some- 
times we  women,  full  of  sympathy  for  the  privations  that  had 
been  endured,  found  that  these  were  injuries  ;  sometimes  we 
discovered  that  imagination  had  created  them.  We  enjoyed, 
maliciously  I  am  afraid,  the  growling  of  one  man  who  never 
erred  in  any  way,  and  consequently  had  no  margin  for  any 
one  that  did  ;  calculating  and  far-seeing  in  his  life,  he  felt  no 
patience  for  those  who,  being  young,  were  yet  to  learn  those 
lessons  of  frugality  that  were  born  in  him.  He  was  still  wrath- 
ful when  he  gave  us  an  account  of  one  we  knew  to  be  delight- 
fully impudent  when  he  was  bent  on  teasing.  When  the 
provident  man  untied  the  strings  of  his  tobacco-pouch,  and 
settled  himself  for  a  smoke,  the  saucy  young  lieutenant  was 
sure  to  stroll  that  way,  and  in  tones  loud  enough  for  those 
near  to  hear  him,  drawl  out,  "  I've  got  a  match  ;  if  any  other 
fellow's  got  a  pipe  and  tobacco,  I'll  have  a  smoke." 

The  expedition  that  was  to  leave  Fort  Riley  was  commanded 
by  General  Hancock,  then  at  the  head  of  the  Department  of 
the  Missouri.  He  arrived  at  our  post  from  Fort  Leavenworth 
with  seven  companies  of  infantry  and  a  battery  of  artillery. 
His  letters  to  the  Indian  agents  of  the  various  tribes  give  the 
objects  of  the  march  into  the  Indian  country.  He  wrote  : 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  state,  for  your  information,  that  I  am 
at  present  preparing  an  expedition  to -the  Plains,  which  will 
soon  be  ready  to  move.  My  object  in  doing  so  at  this  time 
is,  to  convince  the  Indians  within  the  limits  of  this  Depart- 
ment that  we  are  able  to  punish  any  of  them  who  may  molest 
travelers  across  the  Plains,  or  who  may  commit  other  hostili- 
ties against  the  whites.  We  desire  to  avoid,  if  possible,  any 
troubles  with  the  Indians,  and  to  treat  them  with  justice,  and 
according  to  the  requirements  of  our  treaties  with  them  ;  and 
I  wish  especially,  in  my  dealings  with  them,  to  act  through 
the  agents  of  the  Indian  Department  as  far  as  it  is  possible 
to  do  so.  If  you,  as  their  agent,  can  arrange  these  matters 
satisfactorily  with  them,  we  shall  be  pleased  to  defer  the 
whole  subject  to  you.  In  case  of  your  inability  to  do  so,  I 


THE   COURSE    OF   TRUE   LOVE.  301 

would  be  pleased  to  have  you  accompany  me  when  I  visit  the 
country  of  your  tribes,  to  show  that  the  officers  of  the  Gov- 
ernment are  acting  in  harmony.  I  shall  be  pleased  to  talk 
with  any  of  the  chiefs  whom  we  may  meet.  I  do  not  expect 
to  make  war  against  any  of  the  Indians  of  your  agency,  un- 
less they  commence  war  against  us." 

In  General  Custer's  account,  he  says  that  "the  Indians 
had  been  guilty  of  numerous  thefts  and  murders  during  the 
preceding  summer  and  autumn,  for  none  of  which  had  they 
been  called  to  account.  They  had  attacked  the  stations  of 
the  overland  mail-route,  killed  the  employees,  burned  the 
stations  and  captured  the  stock.  Citizens  had  been  mur- 
dered in  their  homes  on  the  frontier  of  Kansas;  and  murders 
had  been  committed  on  the  Arkansas  route.  The  principal 
perpetrators  of  these  acts  were  the  Cheyennes  and  Sioux. 
The  agent  of  the  former,  if  not  a  party  to  the  murder  on  the 
Arkansas,  knew  who  the  guilty  persons  were,  yet  took  no 
steps  to  bring  the  murderers  to  punishment.  Such  a  course 
would  have  interfered  with  his  trade  and  profits.  It  was  not 
to  punish  for  these  sins  of  the  past  that  the  expedition  was 
set  on  foot,  but,  rather,  by  its  imposing  appearance  and  its 
early  presence  in  the  Indian  country,  to  check  or  intimidate 
the  Indians  from  a  repetition  of  their  late  conduct.  During 
the  winter  the  leading  chiefs  and  warriors  had  threatened 
that,  as  soon  as  the  grass  was  up,  the  tribes  would  combine 
in  a  united  outbreak  along  the  entire  frontier." 

There  had  been  little  opportunity  to  put  the  expedition 
out  of  our  minds  for  some  time  previous  to  its  departure. 
The  sound  from  the  blacksmith's  shop,  of  the  shoeing  of 
horses,  the  drilling  on  the  level  ground  outside  of  the  post, 
and  the  loading  of  wagons  about  the  quartermaster  and  com- 
missary storehouses,  went  on  all  day  long.  At  that  time  the 
sabre  was  more  in  use  than  it  was  later,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  I  could  never  again  shut  my  ears  to  the  sound  of  the 
grindstone,  when  I  found  that  the  sabres  were  being  sharp- 
ened. The  troopers,  when  mounted,  were  curiosities,  and  a 
decided  disappointment  to  me.  The  horse,  when  prepared 


302  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

for  the  march,  barely  showed  head  and  tail.  My  ideas  of  the 
dashing  trooper  going  out  to  war,  clad  in  gay  uniform  and 
curbing  a  curveting  steed,  faded  into  nothingness  before  the 
reality.  Though  the  wrapping  together  of  the  blanket,  over- 
coat and  shelter-tent  is  made  a  study  of  the  tactics,  it  could 
not  be  reduced  to  anything  but  a  good-sized  roll  at  the  back 
of  the  saddle.  The  carbine  rattled  on  one  side  of  the  soldier, 
slung  from  the  broad  strap  over  his  shoulder,  while  a  frying- 
pan,  a  tin-cup,  a  canteen,  and  a  haversack  of  hardtack  clat- 
tered and  knocked  about  on  his  other  side.  There  were  pos- 
sibly a  hundred  rounds  of  ammunition  in  his  cartridge-belt, 
which  took  away  all  the  symmetry  that  his  waist  might  other- 
wise have  had.  If  the  company  commander  was  not  too 
strict,  a  short  butcher-knife,  thrust  into  a  home-made  leather 
case,  kept  company  with  the  pistol.  It  was  not  a  murder- 
ous weapon,  but  was  used  to  cut  up  game  or  slice  off  the 
bacon,  which,  sputtering  in  the  skillet  at  evening  camp-fire, 
was  the  main  feature  of  the  soldier's  supper.  The  tin  uten- 
sils, the  carbine  and  the  sabre,  kept  up  a  continual  din,  as 
the  horses  seemingly  crept  over  the  trail  at  the  rate  of  three 
to  four  miles  an  hour.  In  addition  to  the  cumbersome  load, 
there  were  sometimes  lariats  and  iron  pichet-pins  slung  on 
one  side  of  the  saddle,  to  tether  the  animals  when  they 
grazed  at  night.  There  was  nothing  picturesque  about  this 
lumbering  cavalryman,  and,  besides,  our  men  did  not  then 
sit  their  horses  with  the  serenity  that  they  eventually  attained. 
If  the  beast  shied  or  kicked — for  the  poor  thing  was  itself 
learning  to  do  soldiering,  and  occasionally  flung  out  his  heels, 
or  snatched  the  bit  in  his  mouth  in  protest — it  was  a  question 
whether  the  newly  made  Mars  would  land  on  the  crupper  or 
hang  helplessly  among  the  domestic  utensils  suspended  to 
his  saddle.  How  sorry  I  was  for  them,  they  were  so  bruised 
and  lamed  by  their  first  lessons  in  horsemanship.  Every  one 
laughed  at  every  one  else,  and  this  made  it  seem  doubly  try- 
ing to  me.  I  remembered  my  own  first  lessons  among  fear- 
less cavalrymen — a  picture  of  a  trembling  figure,  about  as  un- 
certain in  the  saddle  as  if  it  were  a  wave  of  the  sea,  the  hands 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  303 

cold  and  nerveless,  and,  I  regret  to  add,  the  tears  streaming 
down  my  cheeks!  These  recollections  made  me  writhe  when 
I  saw  a  soldier  describing  an  arc  in  the  air,  and  his  self-freed 
horse  galloping  off  to  the  music-  of  tin  and  steel  in  concert, 
for  no  such  compulsory  landing  was  ever  met  save  by  a  roar 
of  derision  from  the  column.  Just  in  proportion  as  I  had 
suffered  for  their  misfortunes,  did  I  enjoy  the  men  when, 
after  the  campaign,  they  returned,  perfect  horsemen  and 
with  such  physiques  as  might  serve  for  a  sculptor's  model. 

At  the  time  the  expedition  formed  at  Fort  Riley,  I  had 
little  realization  what  a  serious  affair  an  Indian  campaign  was. 
We  had  heard  of  the  outrages  committed  on  the  settlers,  the 
attacking  of  the  overland  supply-trains,  and  the  burning  of 
the  stage-stations;  but  the  rumors  seemed  to  come  from  so 
far  away  that  the  reality  was  never  brought  home  to  me  until 
I  saw  for  myself  what  horror  attends  Indian  depredations. 
Even  a  disaster  to  one  that  seemed  to  be  of  our  own  family, 
failed  to  implant  in  me  that  terror  of  Indians  which,  a  month 
or  two  later,  I  realized  to  its  fullest  extent  by  personal  dan- 
ger. I  must  tell  my  reader,  by  going  back  to  the  days  of  the 
war,  something  of  the  one  that  first  showed  us  what  Indian 
warfare  really  was.  It  was  a  sad  preparation  for  the  cam- 
paign that  followed. 

After  General  Custer  had  been  promoted  from  a  captain  to 
a  brigadier-general,  in  1863,  his  brigade  lay  quietly  in  camp 
for  a  few  days,  to  recruit  before  setting  out  on  another  raid. 
This  gave  the  unusual  privilege  of  lying  in  bed  a  little  later 
in  the  morning,  instead  of  springing  out  before  dawn.  For 
several  mornings  in  succession,  my  husband  told  me,  he  saw 
a  little  boy  steal  through  a  small  opening  in  the  tent,  take 
out  his  clothes  and  boots,  .and  after  a  while  creep  back  with 
them,  brushed  and  folded.  At  last  he  asked  Eliza  where  on 
earth  that  cadaverous  little  image  came  from,  and  she  ex- 
plained that  it  was  "  a  poor  little  picked  sparrow  of  a  chile, 
who  had  come  hangin'  aroun'  the  camp-fire,  mos'  starved," 
and  added,  "  Now,  Ginnel,  you  mustn't  go  and  turn  him  off, 
for  he's  got  nowhar  to  go,  and  'pears  like  he's  crazy  to  wait 


304  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

on  you."  The  General  questioned  him,  and  found  that  the 
boy,  being  unhappy  at  home,  had  run  away.  Enough  of  his 
sad  life  was  revealed  to  convince  the  General  that  it  was  use- 
less to  attempt  to  return  him  to  his  Eastern  home,  for  he  was 
a  determined  little  fellow,  and  there  was  no  question  that  he 
would  have  fled  again.  His  parents  were  rich,  and  my  hus- 
band evidently  knew  who  they  were;  but  the  story  was  confi- 
dential, so  I  never  knew  anything  of  him,  except  that  he  was 
always  showing  signs  of  good-breeding,  even  though  he  lived 
about  the  camp-fire.  A  letter  that  my  husband  wrote  to  his 
own  home  at  that  time,  spoke  of  a  hound  puppy  that  one  of 
his  soldiers  had  given  to  him,  and  then  of  a  little  waif,  called 
Johnnie,  whom  he  had  taken  as  his  servant.  "The  boy," 
he  wrote,  "  is  so  fond  of  the  pup  he  takes  him  to  bed  with 
him."  Evidently  the  child  began  his  service  with  devotion, 
for  the  General  adds:  "  I  think  he  would  rather  starve  than 
to  see  me  go  hungry.  I  have  dressed  him  in  soldier's  clothes, 
and  he  rides  one  of  my  horses  on  the  march.  Returning 
from  the  march  one  day,  I  found  Johnnie  with  his  sleeves 
rolled  up.  He  had  washed  all  my  soiled  clothes  and  hung 
them  on  the  bushes  to  dry.  Small  as  he  is,  they  were  very 
well  done." 

Soon  after  Johnnie  became  my  husband's  servant,  we  were 
married,  and  I  was  taken  down  to  the  Virginia  farm-house, 
that  was  used  as  brigade  headquarters.  By  this  time,  Eliza 
had  initiated  the  boy  into  all  kinds  of  work.  She,  in  turn, 
fed  him,  mended  his  clothes,  and  managed  him,  lording  it 
over  the  child  in  a  lofty  but  never  unkind  manner.  She  had 
tried  to  drill  him  to  wait  on  the  table,  as  she  had  seen  the 
duty  performed  on  the  old  plantation.  At  our  first  dinner 
he  was  so  bashful  I  thought  he  would  drop  everything.  My 
husband  did  not  believe  in  having  a  head  and  foot  to  the 
table  when  we  were  alone,  so  poor  little  Johnnie  was  asked 
to  put  my  plate  beside  the  General's.  Though  he  was  so 
embarrassed  in  this  new  phase  of  his  life,  he  was  never  so  in- 
timidated by  the  responsibility  Eliza  had  pressed  upon  him 
that  he  was  absent-minded  or  confused  regarding  one  point: 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  305 

he  invariably  passed  each  dish  to  the  General  first.  Possibly 
my  husband  noticed  it.  I  certainly  did  not.  There  was  a 
pair  of  watchful  eyes  at  a  crack  in  the  kitchen-door,  which 
took  in  this  little  incident.  One  day  the  General  came  into 
our  room  laughing,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  fun  over  Eliza's 
description  of  how  she  had  noticed  Johnnie  always  serving 
the  General  first,  and  had  labored  with  him  in  secret,  to  teach 
him  to  wait  on  the  lady  first.  "  It's  manners,"  she  said,  be- 
lieving that  was  a  crushing  argument.  But  Johnnie,  usually 
obedient,  persistently  refused,  always  replying  that  the  Gen- 
eral was  the  one  of  us  two  that  ranked,  and  he  ought  to  be 
served  first. 

At  the  time  of  General  Kilpatrick's  famous  raid,  when  he 
went  to  take  Richmond,  General  Custer  was  ordered  to  make 
a  detour  in  an  opposite  direction,  in  order  to  deceive  the 
Confederate  army  as  to  the  real  object  to  be  accomplished. 
This  ruse  worked  so  successfully,  that  General  Custer  and  his 
command  were  put  in  so  close  and  dangerous  a  situation  it 
was  with  difficulty  that  any  of  them  escaped.  The  General 
told  me  that  when  the  pursuit  of  the  enemy  was  hottest,  and 
everyone  doing  his  utmost  to  escape,  he  saw  Johnnie  driving 
a  light  covered  wagon  at  a  gallop,  which  was  loaded  with 
turkeys  and  chickens.  He  had  received  his  orders  from 
Eliza,  before  setting  out,  to  bring  back  something  for  the 
mess,  and  the  boy  had  carried  out  her  directions  with  a  ven- 
geance. He  impressed  into  his  service  the  establishment 
that  he  drove,  and  filled  it  with  poultry.  Even  in  the  melee 
and  excitement  of  retreat,  the  General  was  wonderfully 
amused,  and  amazed  too,  at  the  little  fellow's  fearlessness. 
He  was  too  fond  of  him  to  leave  him  in  danger,  so  he  galloped 
in  his  direction  and  called  to  him,  as  he  stood  up  lashing  his 
horse,  to  abandon  his  capture  or  he  would  be  himself  a 
prisoner.  The  boy  obeyed,  but  hesitatingly,  cut  the  harness, 
sprang  upon  the  horse's  unsaddled  back,  and  was  soon  with 
the  main  column.  The  General,  by  his  delay,  was  obliged  to 
take  to  an  open  field  to  avoid  capture,  and  leap  a  high  fence 
in  order  to  overtake  the  retreating  troops. 


306  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

He  became  more  and  more  interested  in  the  boy,  who  was 
such  a  combination  of  courage  and  fidelity,  and  finally  ar- 
ranged to  have  him  enlist  as  a  soldier.  The  war  was  then 
drawing  to  its  close,  and  he  secured  to  the  lad  a  large  boun- 
ty, which  he  placed  at  interest  for  him,  and  after  the  surren- 
der, persuaded  Johnnie  to  go  to  school.  It  was  difficult  to 
induce  him  to  leave;  but  my  husband  realized  what  injustice 
it  w^as  to  keep  him  in  the  menial  position  to  which  he  desired 
to  return,  and  finally  left  him,  with  the  belief  that  he  had 
instilled  some  ambition  into  the  boy. 

A  year  and  a  half  afterward,  as  we  were  standing  on  the 
steps  of  the  gallery  of  our  quarters  at  Fort  Riley,  we  noticed 
a  stripling  of  a  lad  walking  toward  us,  with  his  head  hang- 
ing on  his  breast,  in  the  shy,  embarrassed  manner  of  one  who 
doubts  his  reception.  With  a  glad  cry,  my  husband  called 
out  that  it  was  Johnnie  Cisco,  and  bounded  down  the  steps 
to  meet  him.  After  he  was  assured  of  his  welcome,  he  told 
us  that  it  had  been  impossible  for  him  to  stay  away,  he  long- 
ed so  constantly  to  be  again  with  us,  and  added  that  if  we 
would  only  let  him  remain,  he  would  not  care  what  he  did. 
Of  course,  the  General  regretted  the  giving  up  of  his  school; 
but,  now  that  he  had  made  the  long  journey,  there  was  no 
help  for  it,  and  he  decided  that  he  should  continue  with  us 
until  he  could  find  him  employment,  for  he  was  determined 
that  he  should  not  reenlist.  The  boy's  old  and  tried  friend, 
Eliza,  at  once  assumed  her  position  of  "  missus, "and,  kind- 
hearted  tyrant  !  gave  him  every  comfort  and  made  him  her 
vassal,  without  a  remonstrance  from  the  half-grown  man,  for 
he  was  only  too  glad  to  be  in  the  sole  home  he  knew,  no 
matter  on  what  terms.  Soon  after  his  coming,  the  General 
obtained  from  one  of  the  managers  of  the  Wells  Fargo  Ex- 
press Company  a  place  of  messenger;  and  the  recommenda- 
tion he  gave  the  boy  for  honesty  and  fidelity  was  confirmed 
over  and  over  again  by  the  officers  of  the  express  line.  He 
was  known  on  the  entire  route  from  Ogden  to  Denver,  and 
was  entrusted  with  immense  amounts  of  gold  in  its  transmis- 
sion from  the  Colorado  mines  to  the  States.  Several  times 


THE   COURSE   OF   TRUE   LOVE.  307 

he  came  to  our  house  for  a  vacation,  and  my  husband  had 
always  the  unvarying  and  genuine  welcome  that  no  one 
doubted  when  once  given,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  praise  and 
encourage  the  friendless  fellow.  Eliza,  after  learning  what 
the  lad  had  passed  through,  in  his  dangers  from  Indians, 
treated  him  like  a  conquering  hero,  but  alternately  bullied 
and  petted  him  still.  At  last  there  came  a  long  interval  be- 
tween his  visits,  and  my  husband  sent  to  the  express  people 
to  inquire.  Poor  Johnnie  had  gone  like  many  another  brave 
employee  of  that  venturesome  firm.  In  a  courageous  defense 
of  the  passengers  and  the  company's  gold,  when  the  stage 
was  attacked,  he  had  been  killed  by  the  Indians.  Eliza  kept 
the  battered  valise  that  her  favorite  had  left  with  us,  and 
mourned  over  it  as  if  it  had  been  something  human.  I  found 
her  cherishing  the  bag  in  a  hidden  corner,  and  recalling  to 
me,  with  tears,  how  warm-hearted  Johnnie  was,  saying  that 
the  night  the  news  of  her  old  mother's  death  came  to  her 
from  Virginia,  he  had  sat  up  till  daybreak  to  keep  the  fire 
going.  "  Miss  Libbie,  I  tole  him  to  go  to  bed,  but  he  said, 
'  No,  Eliza,  I  can't  do  it,  when  you  are  in  trouble:  when  I 
had  no  friends,  and  couldn't  help  myself,  you  helped  me.'" 
After  that,  the  lad  was  always  "poor  Johnnie,"  and  many 
a  boy  with  kinsfolk  of  his  own  is  not  more  sincerely 
mourned. 

As  the  days  drew  nearer  for  the  expedition  to  set  out,  my 
husband  tried  to  keep  my  spirits  up  by  reminding  me  that 
the  council  to  be  held  with  the  chiefs  of  the  warlike  tribes, 
when  they  reached  that  part  of  the  country  infested  with  the 
marauding  Indians,  was  something  he  hoped  might  result  in 
our  speedy  reunion.  He  endeavored  to  induce  me  to  think, 
as  he  did,  that  the  Indians  would  be  so  impressed  with  the 
magnitude  of  the  expedition,  that,  after  the  council,  they 
would  accept  terms  and  abandon  the  war-path.  Eight  com- 
panies of  our  own  regiment  were  going  out,  and  these,  with 
infantry  and  artillery,  made  a  force  of  fourteen  hundred  men. 
It  was  really  a  large  expedition,  for  the  Plains;  but  the  recol- 
lections of  the  thousands  of  men  in  the  Third  Cavalry  Divis- 


308  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

ion,  which  was  the  General's  command  during  the  war,  made 
the  expedition  seem  too  small,  even  for  safety. 

No  one  can  enumerate  the  terrors,  imaginary  and  real, 
that  filled  the  hearts  of  women  on  the  border  in  those  des- 
perate days.  The  buoyancy  of  my  husband  had  only  a  mo- 
mentary effect  in  the  last  hours  of  his  stay.  That  time  seemed 
to  fly  fast;  but  no  amount  of  excitement  and  bustle  of  prepa- 
ration closed  my  eyes,  even  momentarily,  to  the  dragging 
hours  that  awaited  me.  Such  partings  are  such  a  torture 
that  it  is  difficult  even -to  briefly  mention  them.  My  husband 
added  another  struggle  to  my  lot  by  imploring  me  not  to  let 
him  see  the  tears  that  he  knew,  for  his  sake,  I  could  keep 
back  until  he  was  out  of  sight.  Though  the  band  played  its 
usual  departing  tune,  "  The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me,"  if  there 
was  any  music  in  the  notes,  it  was  all  in  the  minor  key  to  the 
men  who  left  their  wives  behind  them.  No  expedition  goes 
out  with  shout  and  song,  if  loving,  weeping  women  are  left 
behind.  Those  who  have  not  assumed  the  voluntary  fetters 
that  bind  us  for  weal  or  for  woe,  and  render  it  impossible  to 
escape  suffering  while  those  we  love  suffer,  or  rejoicing 
while  those  to  whom  we  are  united  are  jubilant,  felt  too  keen- 
ly for  their  comrades  when  they  watched  them  tear  them- 
selves from  clinging  arms  inside  the  threshold  of  their  homes, 
even  to  keep  up  the  stream  of  idle  chaffing  that  only  such 
occasions  can  stop.  There  was  silence  as  the  column  left  the 
garrison.  Alas  !  the  closed  houses  they  left  were  as  still  as 
if  death  had  set  its  seal  upon  the  door;  no  sound  but  the 
sobbing  and  moans  of  women's  breaking  hearts. 

Eliza  stood  guard  at  my  door  for  hours  and  hours,  until  I 
had  courage,  and  some  degree  of  peace,  to  take  up  life  again. 
A  loving,  suffering  woman  came  to  sleep  with  me  for  a  night 
or  two.  The  hours  of  those  first  wakeful  nights  seemed  end- 
less. The  anxious,  unhappy  creature  beside  me  said,  gently, 
in  the  small  hours,  "  Libbie,  are  you  awake?"  "  Oh,  yes," 
I  replied,  "and  have  been  for  ever  so  long."  "What  are 
you  doing?"  "  Saying  over  hymns,  snatches  of  poetry,  the 
Lord's  Prayer  backward,  counting,  etc.,  to  try  to  put  myself 


THE  COURSE   OF  TRUE   LOVE.  309 

to  sleep."  "Oh,  say  some  rhyme  to  me,  in  mercy's  name, 
for  I  am  past  all  hope  of  sleep  while  I  am  so  unhappy  ! " 
Then  I  repeated,  over  and  over  again,  a  single  verse,  writ- 
ten, perhaps,  by  some  one  who,  like  ourselves,  knew  little  of 
the  genius  of  poetry,  but,  alas  !  much  of  what  makes  up  the 
theme  of  all  the  sad  verses  of  the  world: 

"  There's  something  in  the  parting  hour 

That  chills  the  warmest  heart; 
But  kindred,  comrade,  lover,  friend, 

Are  fated  all  to  part. 
But  this  I've  seen,  and  many  a  pang 

Has  pressed  it  on  my  mind — 
The  one  that  goes  is  happier 

Than  he  who  stays  behind." 

Perhaps  after  I  had  said  this,  and  another  similar  verse, 
over  and  over  again,  in  a  sing-song,  droning  voice,  the  reg- 
ular breathing  at  my  side  told  me  that  the  poor,  tired  heart 
had  found  temporary  forgetfulness;  but  when  we  came  to  the 
sad  reality  of  our  lonely  life  next  day,  every  object  in  our 
quarters  reminded  us  what  it  is  to  "  stay  behind."  There  are 
no  lonely  women  who  will  not  realize  how  the  very  chairs,  or 
anything  in  common  use,  take  to  themselves  voices  and  call 
out  reminders  of  what  has  been  and  what  now  is.  Fill  up 
the  time  as  we  might,  there  came  each  day,  at  twilight,  an 
hour  that  should  be  left  out  of  every  solitary  life.  It  is  meant 
only  for  the  happy,  who  need  make  no  subterfuges  to  fill  up 
hours  that  are  already  precious. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

A   PRAIRIE   FIRE. 

IT  was  a  great  change  for  us  from  the  bustle  and  excite- 
ment of  the  cavalry,  as  they  prepared  for  the  expedition,  to 
the  dull  routine  of  an  infantry  garrison  that  replaced  the 
dashing  troopers.  It  was  intensely  quiet,  and  we  missed  the 
clatter  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  the  click  of  the  curry-comb, 
which  had  come  from  the  stables  at  the  morning  and  even- 
ing grooming  of  the  animals,  the  voices  of  the  officers  drill- 
ing the  recruits,  the  constant  passing  and  repassingof  mount- 
ed men  in  front  of  our  quarters;  above  all,  the  enlivening 
trumpet-calls  ringing  out  all  day,  and  we  rebelled  at  the  drum 
and  bugle  that  seemed  so  tame  in  contrast.  There  were  no  more 
long  rides  for  me,  for  Custis  Lee  was  taken  out  at  my  request, 
as  I  feared  no  one  would  give  him  proper  care  at  the  post. 
Even  the  little  chapel  where  the  officers'  voices  had  added 
their  music  to  the  chants,  was  now  nearly  deserted.  The 
chaplain  was  an  interesting  man,  and  the  General  and  most 
of  the  garrison  had  attended  the  services  during  the  winter. 
Only  three  women  were  left  to  respond,  and,  as  we  had  all 
been  reared  in  other  churches,  we  quaked  a  good  deal,  for 
fear  our  responses  would  not  come  in  the  right  place.  They 
did  not  lack  in  earnestness,  for  when  had  we  lonely  creatures 
such  cause  to  send  up  petitions  as  at  that  time,  when  those 
for  whom  we  prayed  were  advancing  into  an  enemy's  coun- 
try day  by  day  !  Never  had  the  beautiful  Litany,  that  asks 
deliverance  for  all  in  trouble,  sorrow,  perplexity,  temptation, 
borne  such  significance  to  us  as  then.  No  one  can  dream, 
until  it  is  brought  home  to  him,  how  space  doubles,  trebles, 
quadruples,  when  it  is  impossible  to  see  the  little  wire  that, 

310 


A  PRAIRIE   FIRE.  311 

fragile  as  it  seems,  chains  one  to  the  absent.  It  is  difficult 
to  realize,  now  that  our  country  is  cobwebbed  with  tele- 
graph lines,  what  a  despairing  feeling  it  was,  in  those  days, 
to  get  far  beyond  the  blessed  nineteenth-century  mode  of 
communication.  He  who  crosses  the  ocean  knows  a  few 
days  of  such  uncertainty,  but  over  the  pathless  sea  of  West- 
ern prairie  it  was  chaos,  after  the  sound  of  the  last  horse's 
hoof  was  lost  in  the  distance. 

We  had  not  been  long  alone  when  a  great  danger  threat- 
ened us.  The  level  plateau  about  our  post,  and  the  valley 
along  the  river  near  us,  were  covered  with  dry  prairie  grass, 
which  grows  thickly  and  is  matted  down  into  close  clumps. 
It  was  discovered  one  day,  that  a  narrow  thread  of  fire  was 
creeping  on  in  our  direction,  scorching  these  tufts  into  shriv- 
elled brown  patches  that  were  ominously  smoking  when  first 
seen.  As  I  begin  to  write  of  what  followed,  I  find  it  diffi- 
cult; for  even  those  living  in  Western  States  and  Territories 
regard  descriptions  of  prairie-fires  as  exaggerated,  and  are 
apt  to  look  upon  their  own  as  the  extreme  to  which  they 
ever  attain.  I  have  seen  the  mild  type,  and  know  that  a 
horseman  rides  through  such  quiet  conflagrations  in  safety. 
The  trains  on  some  of  our  Western  roads  pass  harmless 
through  belts  of  country  when  the  flames  are  about  them; 
there  is  no  impending  peril,  because  the  winds  are  moderate. 
When  a  tiny  flame  is  discovered  in  Kansas,  or  other  States, 
where  the  wind  blows  a  hurricane  so  much  of  the  time,  there 
is  not  a  moment  to  lose.  Although  we  saw  what  was  hardly 
more  than  a  suspicion  of  smoke,  and  the  slender,  sinuous, 
red  tongue  along  the  ground,  we  women  had  read  enough  of 
the  fires  in  Kansas  to  know  that  the  small  blaze  meant  that 
our  lives  were  in  jeopardy.  Most  of  us  were  then  unacquainted 
with  those  precautions  which  the  experienced  Plainsman 
takes,  and,  indeed,  we  had  no  ranchmen  near  us  to  set  us 
the  example  of  caution  which  the  frontiersman  so  soon  learns. 
We  should  have  had  furrows  ploughed  around  the  entire 
post  in  double  lines,  a  certain  distance  apart,  to  check  the 
approach  of  fire.  There  was  no  time  to  fight  the  foe  with  a 


312  TENTING  ON   THE  PLAINS. 

like  weapon,  by  burning  over  a  portion  of  the  grass  between 
the  advancing  blaze  and  our  post.  The  smoke  rose  higher 
and  higher  beyond  us,  and  curling,  creeping  fire  began  to 
ascend  into  waves  of  flame  with  alarming  rapidity,  and  in  an 
incredibly  short  time  we  were  overshadowed  with  a  dark  pall 
of  smoke. 

The  Plains  were  then  new  to  us.  It  is  impossible  to  ap- 
preciate their  vastness  at  first.  The  very  idea  was  hard  to 
realize,  that  from  where  we  lived  we  looked  on  an  uninter- 
rupted horizon.  We  felt  that  it  must  be  the  spot  where  some 
one  first  said,  "The  sky  fits  close  down  all  around."  It  fills 
the  soul  with  wonder  and  awe  to  look  upon  the  vastness  of 
that  sea  of  land  for  the  first  time.  As  the  sky  became  lurid, 
and  the  blaze  swept  on  toward  us,  surging  to  and  fro  in  wav- 
ing lines  as  it  approached  nearer  and  nearer,  it  seemed  that 
the  end  of  the  world,  when  all  shall  be  rolled  together  as  a 
scroll,  had  really  come.  The  whole  earth  appeared  to  be  on 
fire.  The  sky  was  a  sombre  canopy  above  us,  on  which 
flashes  of  brilliant  light  suddenly  appeared  as  the  flames  rose, 
fanned  by  a  fresh  gust  of  wind.  There  were  no  screams  nor 
cries,  simply  silent  terror  and  shiverings  of  horror,  as  we  wo- 
men huddled  together  to  watch  the  remorseless  fiend  ad- 
vancing with  what  appeared  to  be  inevitable  annihilation  of 
the  only  shelter  we  had.  Every  woman's  thoughts  turned  to 
her  natural  protector,  now  far  away,  and  longed  with  unutter- 
able longing  for  one  who,  at  the  approach  of  danger,  stood 
like  a  bulwark  of  courage  and  defense.  The  river  was  half  a 
mile  away,  and  our  feet  could  not  fly  fast  enough  to  reach 
the  water  before  the  enemy  would  be  upon  us.  There  was 
no  such  a  thing  as  a  fire-engine.  The  Government  then  had 
not  even  provided  the  storehouses  and  quarters  with  the  Bab- 
cock  Extinguisher.  We  were  absolutely  powerless,  and  could 
only  fix  our  fascinated  gaze  upon  the  approaching  foe. 

In  the  midst  of  this  appalling  scene,  we  were  startled  anew 
by  a  roar  and  shout  from  the  soldiers'  barracks.  Some  one 
had,  at  last,  presence  of  mind  to  marshal  the  men  into  line, 
and,  assuming  the  commanding  tone  that  ensures  action  and 


A   PRAIRIE   FIRE.  313 

obedience  in  emergencies,  gave  imperative  orders.  Every 
one — citizen  employees,  soldiers  and  officers — seized  gunny 
sacks,  blankets,  poles,  anything  available  that  came  in  their 
way,  and  raced  wildly  beyond  the  post  into  the  midst  of  the 
blazing  grass.  Forming  a  cordon,  they  beat  and  lashed  the 
flames  with  the  blankets,  so  twisted  as  to  deal  powerful  blows. 
It  was  a  frenzied  fight.  The  soldiers  yelled,  swore  and  leaped 
frantically  upon  beds  of  blazing  grass,  condensing  a  lifetime 
of  riotous  energy  into  these  perilous  moments.  We  women 
were  not  breathless  and  trembling  over  fears  for  ourselves 
alone:  our  hearts  were  filled  with  terror  for  the  brave  men 
who  were  working  for  our  deliverance.  They  were  men  to 
whom  we  had  never  spoken,  nor  were  we  likely  ever  to  speak 
to  them,  so  separated  are  the  soldiers  in  barracks  from  an  of- 
ficer's household.  Sometimes  we  saw  their  eyes  following  us 
respectfully,  as  we  rode  about  the  garrison,  seeming  to  have 
in  them  an  air  of  possession,  as  if  saying,  "  That's  our  cap- 
tain's or  our  colonel's  wife."  Now,  they  were  showing  their 
loyalty,  for  there  are  always  a  few  of  a  regiment  left  behind 
to  care  for  the  company  property,  or  to  take  charge  of  the 
gardens  for  the  soldiers.  These  men,  and  all  the  other  brave 
fellows  with  them,  imperiled  their  lives  in  order  that  the  offi- 
cers who  had  gone  out  for  Indian  warfare,  might  come  home 
and  find  "  all's  well."  Let  soldiers  know  that  a  little  knot  of 
women  are  looking  to  them  as  their  saviors,  and  you  will  see 
what  nerves  of  iron  they  have,  what  inexhaustible  strength 
they  can  exhibit. 

No  sooner  had  the  flames  been  stamped  out  of  one  portion 
of  the  plain,  than  the  whole  body  of  men  were  obliged  to 
rush  off  in  another  direction  and  begin  the  thrashing  and 
tramping  anew.  It  seemed  to  us  that  there  was  no  such 
thing  as  conquering  anything  so  insidious.  But  the  wind, 
that  had  been  the  cause  of  our  danger,  saved  us  at  last.  That 
very  wind  which  we  had  reviled  all  winter  for  its  doleful  howl- 
ings  around  our  quarters  and  down  the  chimneys;  that  self- 
same wind  that  had  infuriated  us  by  blowing  our  hats  off 
when  we  went  out  to  walk,  or  impeded  our  steps  by  twisting 


3H  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

our  skirts  into  hopeless  folds  about  our  ankles — was  now  to 
be  our  savior.  Suddenly  veering,  as  is  its  fashion  in  Kansas, 
it  swept  the  long  tongues  of  flame  over  the  bluffs  beyond  us, 
where  the  lonely  coyote  and  its  mate  were  driven  into  their 
lair.  By  this  vagary  of  the  element,  that  is  never  anywhere 
more  variable  than  in  Kansas,  our  quarters,  our  few  posses- 
sions, and  no  doubt  our  lives,  were  saved.  With  faces  be- 
grimed and  blistered,  their  clothes  black  with  soot  and  smoke, 
their  hands  burnt  and  numb  from  violent^effort,  the  soldiers 
and  citizen  employees  dragged  their  exhausted  bodies  back 
to  garrison,  and  dropped  down  anywhere  to  rest. 

The  tinge  of  green  that  had  begun  to  appear  was  now  gone, 
and  the  charred,  smoke-stained  earth  spread  as  far  as  we 
could  see,  making  more  desolate  the  arid,  treeless  country 
upon  which  we  looked  It  was  indeed  a  blackened  and  dis- 
mal desert  that  encircled  us,  and  we  knew  that  we  were  de- 
prived of  the  delight  of  the  tender  green  of  early  spring, 
which  carpets  the  Plains  for  a  brief  time  before  the  sun 
parches  and  turns  to  russet  and  brown  the  turf  of  our  Western 
prairies. 

As  we  sat  on  the  gallery,  grieving  over  this  ruin  of  spring, 
Mrs.  Gibbs  gathered  her  two  boys  closer  to  her,  as  she  shud- 
dered over  another  experience  with  prairie  fire,  where  her 
children  were  in  peril.  The  little  fellows,  in  charge  of  a 
soldier,  were  left  temporarily  on  the  bank  of  a  creek.  Imag- 
ine the  horror  of  a  mother  who  finds,  as  she  did,  the  grass 
on  fire  and  a  broad  strip  of  flame  separating  her  from  her 
children!  Before  the  little  ones  could  follow  their  first  in- 
stinct, and  thereby  encounter  certain  death  by  attempting  to 
run  through  the  fire  to  their  mother,  the  devoted  soldier, 
who  had  left  them  but  a  moment,  realizing  that  they  would 
instantly  seek  their  mother,  ran  like  an  antelope  to  where  the 
fire-band  narrowed,  leaped  the  flame,  seized  the  little  men, 
and  plunged  with  mad  strides  to  the  bank  of  the  creek,  where, 
God  be  praised!  nature  provides  a  refuge  from  the  relentless, 
foe  of  our  Western  plains. 

In  our  Western  prairie  fires  the  flame  is  often  a  mile  long, 


A   PRAIRIE   FIRE.  315 

perhaps  not  rising  over  a  foot  high,  but,  sweeping  from  six 
to  ten  miles  an  hour,  it  requires  the  greatest  exertion  of  the 
ranchmen,  with  all  kinds  of  improvised  flails,  to  beat  out  the 
fire.  The  final  resort  of  a  frontiersman,  if  the  flames  are  too 
much  for  him  to  overcome,  is  to  take  refuge  with  his  family, 
cattle,  horses,  etc.,  in  the  garden,  where  the  growing  vege- 
tables make  an  effectual  protection.  Alas,  when  he  finds  it 
safe  to  venture  from  the  green  oasis,  the  crops  are  not  only 
gone,  but  the  roots  are  burned,  and  the  ground  valueless  from 
the  parching  of  the  terrible  heat.  When  a  prairie  fire  is  rag- 
ing at  ten  miles  an  hour,  the  hurricane  lifts  the  tufts  of 
loosened  bunch  grass,  which  in  occasional  clumps  is  longer 
than  the  rest,  carrying  it  far  beyond  the  main  fire,  and  thus 
starting  a  new  flame.  No  matter  how  weary  the  pioneer  may 
be  after  a  day's  march,  he  neglects  no  precautions  that  can 
secure  him  from  fire.  He  twists  into  wisp  the  longest  of  the 
bunch  grass,  trailing  it  around  the  camp;  the  fire  thus  started 
is  whipped  out  by  the  teamsters,  after  it  has  burned  over  a 
sufficient  area  for  safety.  They  follow  the  torch  of  the  leader 
with  branches  of  the  green  willow  or  twigs  of  cottonwood 
bound  together. 

The  first  letters,  sent  back  from  the  expedition  by  scouts, 
made  red-letter  days  for  us.  The  official  envelope,  stained 
with  rain  and  mud,  bursting  open  with  the  many  pages  crowd- 
ed in,  sometimes  even  tied  with  a  string  by  some  messenger 
through  whose  hands  the  parcel  passed,  told  stories  of  the 
vicissitudes  of  the  missive  in  the  difficult  journey  to  our  post. 
These  letters  gave  accounts  of  the  march  to  Fort  Larned, 
where  a  great  camp  was  established,  to  await-  the  arrival  of 
the  chiefs  with  whom  the  council  was  to  be  held.  While  the 
runners  were  absent  on  their  messages  to  the  tribes,  some 
effort  was  made  to  protect  the  troops  against  the  still  sharp 
winds  of  early  spring.  The  halt  and  partly  permanent  camp 
was  most  fortunate;  for  had  the  troops  been  on  the  march,  a 
terrible  snow-storm  that  ensued  would  have  wrought  havoc, 
for  the  cold  became  so  intense,  and  the  snow  so  blinding,  it 
was  only  through  great  precautions  that  loss  of  life  was  pre- 


A   PRAIRIE   F#RE.  317 

vented.  The  animals  were  given  an  extra  ration  of  oats, 
while  the  guards  were  obliged  to  take  whips  and  strike  at  the 
horses  on  the  picket-line,  to  keep  them  in  motion  and  pre- 
vent them  from  freezing.  The  snow  was  eight  inches  deep, 
a  remarkable  fall  for  Kansas  at  that  time  of  the  year.  As  we 
read  over  these  accounts,  which  all  the  letters  contained, 
though  mine  touched  lightly  on  the  subject,  owing  to  my 
husband's  fixed  determination  to  write  of  the  bright  side,  we 
felt  that  we  had  hardly  a  right  to  our  fires  and  comfortable 
quarters.  There  were  officers  on  the  expedition  who  could 
not  keep  warm.  A  number  were  then  enduring  their  first 
exposure  to  the  elements,  and  I  remember  that  several,  who 
afterward  became  stalwart,  healthy  men,  were  then  partial 
invalids,  owing  to  sedentary  life  in  the  States,  delicate  lungs 
or  climatic  influences. 

In  my  husband's  letters  there  was  a  laughable  description 
of  his  lending  his  dog  to  keep  a  friend  warm.  The  officer 
came  into  his  tent  after  dark,  declaring  that  no  amount 
of  bedding  had  any  effect  in  keeping  out  the  cold,  and  he 
had  come  to  borrow  a  dog,  to  see  if  he  could  have  one  night's 
uninterrupted  rest.  Our  old  hound  was  offered,  because  he 
could  cover  snch  a  surface,  for  he  was  a  big  brute,  and  when 
he  once  located  himself  he  rarely  moved  until  morning.  My 
husband  forgot,  in  giving  Rover  his  recommendation,  to  men- 
tion a  habit  he  had  of  sleeping  audibly,  besides  a  little  fashion 
of  twitching  his  legs  and  thumping  his  cumbrous  tail,  in 
dreams  that  were  evidently  of  the  chase,  or  of  battles  he  was 
living  over,  in  which  "Turk,"  the  bull-dog,  was  being  van- 
quished. He  was  taken  into  the  neighbor's  tent,  and  in- 
duced to  settle  for  the  night,  after  the  General's  coaxing  and 
pretense  of  going  to  sleep  beside  him.  Later,  when  he  went 
back  to  see  how  Rover  worked  as  a  portable  furnace,  he 
found  the  officer  sound  asleep  on  his  back,  emitting  such 
nasal  notes  as  only  a  stout  man  is  equal  to,  while  Rover  lay 
sprawled  over  the  broad  chest  of  his  host,  where  he  had  crept 
after  he  was  asleep,  snoring  with  an  occasional  interlude  of  a 
long-drawn  snort,  introduced  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  fox- 


318  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

hounds.  The  next  morning  my  husband  was  not  in  the  least 
surprised,  after  what  he  had  seen  the  night  before,  to  receive 
a  call  from  the  officer,  who  presented  a  request  to  exchange 
dogs.  He  said  that  when  he  made  the  proposal,  he  did  not 
expect  to  have  a  bedfellow  that  would  climb  up  over  his  lungs 
and  crush  all  the  breath  out  of  his  body.  Instead  of  showing 
proper  sympathy,  the  General  threw  himself  on  his  pallet 
and  roared  with  laughter. 

All  these  camp  incidents  brightened  up  the  long  letters, 
and  kept  me  from  realizing,  as  I  read,  what  were  the  realities 
of  that  march,  undertaken  so  early  in  the  season.  But  as  the 
day  advanced,  and  the  garrison  exchanged  the  news  con- 
tained in  all  the  letters  that  had  arrived  from  the  expedition, 
I  could  not  deceive  myself  into  the  belief  that  the  way  of  our 
regiment  had  thus  far  been  easy. 

With  all  my  endeavors  to  divide  the  day  methodically,  and 
enforce  certain  duties  upon  myself,  knowing  well  that  it  was 
my  only  refuge  from  settled  melancholy,  I  found  time  a  lag- 
gard. It  is  true,  my  clothes  were  in  a  deplorable  state, 
for  while  our  own  officers  were  with  us  they  looked  to  us  to 
fill  up  their  leisure  hours.  The  General,  always  devoted  to 
his  books,  could  read  in  the  midst  of  our  noisy  circle  ;  but  I 
was  never  permitted  much  opportunity,  and  managed  to  keep 
up  with  the  times  by  my  husband's  account  of  the  important 
news,  and  by  the  agreeable  method  of  listening  to  the  discus- 
sions of  the  men  upon  topics  of  the  hour.  If,  while  our  cir- 
cle was  intact,  I  tried  to  sew,  a  ride,  a  walk  or  a  game  of 
parlor  croquet  was  proposed,  to  prevent  my  even  mending 
our  clothing.  Now  that  we  were  alone,  it  was  necessary  to 
make  the^ needle  fly.  Eliza  was  set  up  with  a  supply  of  blue- 
checked  gowns  and  aprons,  while  my  own  dresses  were  re- 
constructed, the  riding-habit  was  fortified  with  patches,  and 
any  amount  of  stout  linen  thread  disappeared  in  strengthen- 
ing the  seams  ;  for  between  the  hard  riding  and  the  gales  of 
wind  we  encountered,  the  destruction  of  a  habit  was  rapid. 

Diana,  with  the  elastic  heart  of  a  coquette,  had  not  only 
sped  the  parting,  but  welcomed  the  coming  guest ;  for  hardly 


A    PRAIRIE   FIRE.  319 

had  the  sound  of  the  trumpet  died  away,  before  a  new  officer 
began  to  frequent  our  parlor.  It  was  then  the  fashion  for 
men  to  wear  a  tiny  neck-bow,  called  a  butterfly  tie.  They 
were  made  on  a  pasteboard  foundation,  with  a  bit  of  elastic 
cord  to  fasten  them  to  the  shirt-stud.  I  knew  of  no  paste- 
board nearer  than  Leavenworth  ;  but  in  the  curly  head  there 
were  devices  to  meet  the  exigency.  I  found  Diana  with  her 
lap  full  of  photographs,  cutting  up  the  portraits  of  the  de- 
parted beaux,  to  make  ties  for  the  next.  Whether  the  new 
suitor  ever  discovered  that  he  was  wearing  at  his  neck  the 
face  of  a  predecessor,  I  do  not  know  ;  but  this  I  do  remem- 
ber, that  the  jagged,  frayed  appearance  that  the  girl's  dresses 
presented  when  turned  inside  out.  betrayed  where  the  silk 
was  procured  to  make  the  neckties.  She  had  clipped  out 
bits  of  material  where  the  skirt  was  turned  in,  and  when  we 
attempted  to  remodel  ourselves  and  cut  down  the  volumin- 
ous breadths  of  that  time  into  tightly  gored  princesse  gowns, 
we  were  put  to  it  to  make  good  the  deficiencies,  and  "  piece 
out "  the  silk  that  had  been  sacrificed  to  her  flirtations. 

Succeeding  letters  from  my  husband  gave  an  account  of 
his  first  experience  with  the  perfidy  of  the  Indians.  The 
council  had  been  held,  and  it  was  hoped  that  effectual  steps 
were  taken  to  establish  peace.  But,  as  is  afterward  related, 
the  chiefs  gave  them  the  slip  and  deserted  the  village.  Even 
in  the  midst  of  hurried  preparations  to  follow  the  renegades, 
my  husband  stopped,  in  order  that  his  departure  might  not 
make  me  depressed,  to  give  an  account  of  a  joke  that  they  all 
had  on  one  of  their  number,  who  dared  to  eat  soup  out  of  an 
Indian  kettle  still  simmering  over  the  deserted  fire.  The 
General  pressed  the  retreating  Indians  so  closely,  the  very 
night  of  their  departure,  that  they  were  obliged  to  divide 
into  smaller  detachments,  and  even  the  experienced  Plains- 
men could  no  longer  trace  a  trail. 

Meanwhile,  as  our  officers  were  experiencing  all  sorts  of 
new  phases  in  life  on  their  first  march  over  the  Plains,  our 
vicissitudes  were  increasing  at  what  seemed  to  be  the  peace- 
ful Fort  Riley.  I  had  seen  with  dismay  that  the  cavalry  were 


320  TENTING   ON    THE    PLAINS. 

replaced  by  negro  infantry,  and  found  that  they  were  to  gar- 
rison the  post  for  the  summer.  I  had  never  seen  negroes  as  sol- 
diers, and  these  raw  recruits  had  come  from  plantations,  where 
I  had  known  enough  of  their  life,  while  in  Texas  and  Louisi- 
ana, to  realize  what  an  irresponsible,  child's  existence  it  was. 
Entirely  dependent  on  some  one's  care,  and  without  a  sense 
of  obligation  of  any  kind,  they  were  exempt  from  the  neces- 
sity of  thinking  about  the  future.  Their  time  had  been  spent 
in  following  the  directions  of  the  overseer  in  the  corn-field  or 
cotton  brake  by  day,  and  beguiling  the  night  with  a  coon- 
hunt  or  the  banjo.  The  early  days  of  their  soldiering  were  a 
reign  of  terror  to  us  women,  in  our  lonely,  unprotected 
homes.  It  was  very  soon  discovered  that  the  officer  who 
commanded  them  was  for  the  first  time  accustoming  himself 
to  colored  troops,  and  did  not  know  how  to  keep  in  check 
the  boisterous,  undisciplined  creatures.  He  was  a  courteous, 
quiet  man,  of  scholarly  tastes,  and  evidently  entertained  the 
belief  that  moral  suasion  would  eventually  effect  any  purpose. 
The  negroes,  doubtless  discovering  what  they  could  do  under 
so  mild  a  commander,  grew  each  day  more  lawless.  They 
used  the  parade-ground,  which  our  officers  had  consecrated 
to  the  most  formal  of  ceremonies,  like  dress-parades  and 
guard-mount,  for  a  playground  ;  turning  hand-springs  all 
over  the  sprouting  grass,  and  vaulting  in  leap-frog  over  the 
bent  back  of  a  comrade.  If  it  were  possible  for  people  in  the 
States  to  realize  how  sacred  the  parade-ground  of  a  Western 
post  is,  how  hurriedly  a  venturesome  cow  or  loose  horse  is 
marshaled  off,  how  pompously  every  one  performs  the  mili- 
tary duties  permitted  on  this  little  square  ;  how  even  the 
color-sergeant,  who  marches  at  measured  gait  to  take  down 
and  furl  the  garrison  flag,  when  the  evening  gun  announces 
that  the  sun  has  been,  by  the  royal  mandate  of  military  law, 
permitted  to  set — they  would  then  understand  with  what  per- 
turbation we  women  witnessed  the  desecration  of  what  had 
been  looked  upon  as  hallowed  earth.  The  sacrilege  of  these 
monkey  acrobats  turning  somersaults  over  the  ground,  their 
elongated  heels  vibrating  in  the  air,  while  they  stood  upon 


A   PRAIRIE    FIRE.  321 

their  heads  in  front  of  our  windows,  made  us  very  indignant. 
When  one  patted  "juba,"and  a  group  danced,  we  seemed 
transformed  into  a  disconnected  minstrel  show.  There  was 
not  a  trace  of  the  well-conducted  post  of  a  short  time  before. 
All  this  frivolity  was  but  the  prelude  to  serious  trouble. 
The  joy  with  which  the  negroes  came  into  possession  of  a 
gun  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives  would  have  been  ludicrous 
had  it  not  been  extremely  dangerous.  They  are  eminently  a 
race  given  over  to  display.  This  was  exhibited  in  their  at- 
tempts to  make  themselves  marksmen  in  a  single  day.  One 
morning  we  were  startled  by  a  shot  coming  from  the  bar- 
racks. It  was  followed  by  a  rush  of  men  out  of  the  doors, 
running  wildly  to  and  fro,  yelling  with  alarm.  We  knew 
that  some  disaster  had  occurred,  and  it  proved  to  be  the  in- 
stant death  of  a  too  confiding  negro,  who  had  allowed  him- 
self to  be  cast  for  the  part  of  William  Tell's  son.  His  acci- 
dental murderer  was  a  man  that  had  held  a  gun  in  his  hand 
that  week  for  the  first  time. 

.  They  had  no  sort  of  idea  how  to  care  for  their  health. 
The  ration  of  a  soldier  is  so  large  that  a  man  who  can  eat  it 
all  in  a  day  is  renowned  as  a  glutton.  1  think  but  few  in- 
stances ever  occur  where  the  entire  ration  is  consumed  by 
one  man.  It  is  not  expected,  and,  fortunately,  with  all  the 
economy  of  the  Government,  the  supply  has  never  been  cut 
down ;  but  the  surplus  is  sold  and  a  company  fund  established. 
By  this  means,  the  meagre  fare  is  increased  by  buying  vege- 
tables, if  it  happen  to  be  a  land  where  they  can  be  obtained. 
The  negroes,  for  the  first  time  in  possession  of  all  the  coffee, 
pork,  sugar,  and  hardtack  they  wanted,  ate  inordinately. 
There  was  no  one  to  compel  them  to  cleanliness.  If  a  sol- 
dier in  a  white  regiment  is  very  untidy  the  men  become  in- 
dignant, and  as  the  voluminous  regulations  provide  direc- 
tions only  for  the  scrubbing  of  the  quarters  and  not  of  the 
men,  they  sometimes  take  the  affair  into  their  own  hands, 
and,  finding  from  their  captain  that  they  will  not  be  inter- 
fered with,  the  untidy  one  is  taken  on  a  compulsory  journey 
to  the  creek  and  "  ducked  "  until  the  soldiers  consider  him 


322  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

endurable.  The  negroes  at  that  time  had  no  idea  of  en- 
countering the  chill  of  cold  water  on  their  tropical  skins, 
and  suffered  the  consequences  very  soon.  Pestilence  broke 
out  among  them.  Smallpox,  black  measles  and  other  con- 
tagious diseases  raged,  while  the  soldier's  enemy,  scurvy,  took 
possession.  We  were  within  a  stone's-throw  of  the  barracks. 
Of  course  the  illest  among  them  were  quarantined  in  hos- 
pital-tents outside  the  garrison;  but  to  look  over  to  the  in- 
fested barracks  and  realize  what  lurked  behind  the  walls, 
was,  to  say  the  least,  uncomfortable  for  those  of  us  who  were 
near  enough  to  breathe  almost  the  same  air. 

Added  to  this,  we  felt  that,  with  so  much  indiscriminate 
firing,  a  shot  might  at  any  time  enter  our  windows.  One 
evening  a  few  women  were  walking  outside  the  garrison. 
Our  limits  were  not  so  circumscribed,  at  that  time,  as  they 
were  in  almost  all  the  places  where  I  was  stationed  afterward. 
A  sentinel  always  walked  a  beat  in  front  of  a  small  arsenal 
outside  of  the  post,  and,  overcome  with  the  grandeur  of 
carrying  a  gun  and  wearing  a  uniform,  he  sought  to  impress 
his  soldierly  qualities  on  anyone  approaching  by  a  stentorian 
"  Who  comes  thar?"  It  was  entirely  unnecessary,  as  it  was 
light  enough  to  see  the  fluttering  skirts  of  women,  for  the 
winds  kept  our  drapery  in  constant  motion.  Almost  instantly 
after  his  challenge,  the  flash  of  his  gun  and  the  whizz  of  a 
bullet  past  us  made  us  aware  that  our  lives  were  spared  only 
because  of  his  inaccurate  aim.  Of  course  that  ended  our  even- 
ing walks,  and  it  was  a  great  deprivation,  as  the  monotony 
of  a  garrison  becomes  almost  unbearable. 

There  was  one  person  who  profited  by  the  presence  of  the 
negro  troops.  Our  Eliza  was  such  a  belle,  that  she  would 
have  elevated  them  into  too  exalted  a  sphere  to  wait  on  us, 
had  she  not  been  accustomed  to  constant  adulation  from  the 
officers'  body-servants  from  the  time,  as  she  expressed  it, 
when  she  "  entered  the  service."  Still,  it  was  a  distraction, 
of  which  she  availed  herself  in  our  new  post,  to  receive  new 
beaux,  tire  of  them,  quarrel  and  discard  them  for  fresh  vic- 
tims. They  waited  on  her  assiduously,  and  I  suspect  they 


A   PRAIRIE   FIRE.  323 

dined  daily  in  our  kitchen,  as  long  as  their  brief  season  of 
favor  lasted.  They  even  sought  to  curry  favor  with  Eliza  by 
gifts  to  me — snaring  quail,  imprisoning  them  in  cages  made 
of  cracker-boxes,  or  bring  dandelion  greens  or  wild- flowers 
as  they  appeared  in  the  dells.  For  all  these  gifts  I  was  duly 
grateful,  but  I  was  very  much  afraid  of  a  negro  soldier,  never- 
theless. 

At  last  our  perplexities  and  frights  reached  a  climax.  One 
night  we  heard  the  measured  tramp  of  feet  over  the  gravel 
in  the  road  in  front  of  our  quarters,  and  they  halted  almost 
opposite  our  windows,  where  we  could  hear  the  voices.  No 
loud  "  Halt,  who  comes  there!  "  rang  out  on  the  air,  for  the 
sentinel  was  enjoined  to  silence.  Being  frightened,  I  called 
to  Eliza.  To  Diana  and  to  me  she  was  worth  a  corporal's 
guard,  and  could  not  be  equaled  as  a  defender,  solacer  and 
general  manager  of  our  dangerous  situations — indeed,  of  all 
our  affairs.  Eliza  ran  up-stairs  in  response  to  my  cry,  and  we 
watched  with  terror  what  went  on.  It  soon  was  discovered 
to  be  a  mutiny.  The  men  growled  and  swore,  and  we  could 
see  by  their  threatening  movements  that  they  were  in  a  state 
of  exasperation.  They  demanded  the  commanding  officer, 
and  as  he  did  not  appear,  they  clenched  their  fists,  and  looked 
at  the  house  as  if  they  would  tear  it  down,  or  at  least  break 
in  the  doors.  It  seemed  a  desperate  situation  to  us,  for  the 
quarters  were  double,  and  our  gallery  had  no  division  from 
the  neighbors.  If  doors  and  windows  were  to  be  demolished, 
there  would  be  little  hope  for  ours.  I  knew  of  no  way  by 
which  we  could  ask  help,  as  most  of  the  soldiers  were  colored, 
and  we  felt  sure  that  the  plan,  whatever  it  was,  must  include 
them  all. 

At  last  Eliza  realized  how  terrified  I  was,  and  gave  up  the 
absorbing  watch  she  was  keeping,  for  her  whole  soul  was  in 
the  wrongs,  real  or  fancied,  of  her  race.  Too  often  had  she 
comforted  me  in  my  fears  to  forget  me  now,  and  an  explana- 
tion was  given  of  this  alarming  outbreak. 

The  men  had  for  some  time  been  demanding  the  entire 
ration,  and  were  especially  clamorous  for  all  the  sugar  that 


324  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

was  issued.  Very  naturally,  the  captain  had  withheld  the 
supernumerary  supplies,  in  order  to  make  company  savings 
for  the  purpose  of  buying  vegetables.  A  mutiny  over  sugar 
may  seem  a  small  affair,  but  it  assumes  threatening  propor- 
tions when  a  mob  of  menacing,  furious  men  tramp  up  and  down 
in  front  of  one's  house,  and  there  is  no  safe  place  of  refuge, 
nor  any  one  to  whom  appeal  can  be  made.  Eliza  kept  up  a 
continuous  comforting  and  reassuring,  but  when  I  reminded 
her  that  our  door  had  no  locks,  or,  rather,  no  keys,  for  it  was 
not  the  custom  to  lock  army  quarters,  she  said,  "  La,  Miss 
Libbie,  they  won't  tech  you;  you  dun  wrote  too  many  letters 
for  'em,  and  they'se  got  too  many  good  vittels  in  your  kitchen 
ever  to  'sturb  you."  Strong  excitement  is  held  to  be  the 
means  of  bringing  out  the  truth,  and  here  were  the  facts  re- 
vealed that  they  had  been  bountifully  led  at  our  expense.  I 
had  forgotten  how  much  ink  I  had  used  in  trying  to  put  down 
their  very  words  in  love-letters,  or  family  epistles  to  the 
Southern  plantation.  The  infuriated  men  had  to  quiet  down, 
for  no  response  came  from  the  commanding  officer.  They 
found  out,  I  suppose  from  the  investigations  of  one  acting  as 
spy,  and  going  to  the  rear  of  the  quarters,  that  he  had  dis- 
appeared. To  our  intense  relief,  they  straggled  off  until  their 
growling  and  muttering  were  lost  in  the  barracks,  where  they 
fortunately  went  to  bed.  No  steps  were  taken  to  punish 
them,  and  at  any  imaginary  wrong,  they  might  feel,  from  the 
success  of  this  first  attempt  at  insurrection,  that  it  was  safe 
to  repeat  the  experiment.  We  women  had  little  expectation 
but  that  the  summer  would  be  one  of  carousal  and  open  re- 
bellion against  military  rule.  The  commanding  officer, 
though  very  retiring,  was  so  courteous  and  kindly  to  all  the 
women  left  in  the  garrison,  that  it  was  difficult  to  be  angry 
with  him  for  his  failure  to  control  the  troops.  Indeed,  his 
was  a  hard  position  to  fill,  with  a  lot  of  undisciplined,  igno- 
rant, ungoverned  creatures,  who  had  never  been  curbed,  ex- 
cept by  the  punishment  of  plantation  life. 

Meanwhile  my  letters,  on  which  I  wrote  every  day,  even  if 
there  was  no  opportunity  to  send  them,  made  mention  of  our 


A  PRAIRIE   FIRE.  325 

frights  and  uncertainties.  Each  mail  carried  out  letters  from 
the  women  to  the  expedition,  narrating  their  fears.  We  had 
not  the  slightest  idea  that  there  was  a  remedy.  I  looked 
upon  the  summer  as  the  price  1  was  to  pay  for  the  privilege 
of  being  so  far  on  the  frontier,  so  much  nearer  the  expedi- 
tion than  the  families  of  officers  who  had  gone  East.  With 
all  my  tremors  and  misgivings,  I  had  no  idea  of  retreating 
to  safe  surroundings,  as  I  should  then  lose  my  hope  of  event- 
ually going  out  to  the  regiment.  It  took  a  long  time  for  our 
letters  to  reach  the  expedition,  and  a  correspondingly  long 
time  for  replies;  but  the  descriptions  of  the  night  of  mutiny 
brought  the  officers  together  in  council,  and  the  best  disci- 
plinarian of  our  regiment  was  immediately  despatched  to  our 
relief.  I  knew  but  little  of  General  Gibbs  at  that  time;  my 
husband  had  served  with  him  during  the  war,  and  valued  his 
soldierly  ability  and  sincere  friendship.  He  had  been  terri- 
bly wounded  in  the  Indian  wars  before  the  Civil  War,  and 
was  really  unfit  for  hard  service,  but  too  soldierly  to  be  will- 
ing to  remain  at  the  rear.  In  a  week  after  his  arrival  at  our 
post,  there  was  a  marked  difference  in  the  state  of  affairs. 
Out  of  the  seemingly  hopeless  material,  General  Gibbs  made 
soldiers  who  were  used  as  guards  over  Government  property 
through  the  worst  of  the  Indian  country,  and  whose  courage 
was  put  to  the  test  by  frequent  attacks,  where  they  had  to 
defend  themselves  as  well  as  the  supplies.  The  opinion  of 
soldier  and  citizen  alike  underwent  a  change,  regarding  ne- 
groes as  soldiers,  on  certain  duty  to  which  they  were  fitted. 
A  ranchman,  after  praising  their  fighting,  before  the  season 
was  ended  said,  ' '  And  plague  on  my  cats  if  they  don't  like  it. " 
We  soon  found  that  we  had  reached  a  country  where  the 
weather  could  show  more  remarkable  and  sudden  phases  in  a 
given  time  than  any  portion  of  the  United  States.  The  cul- 
tivation of  the  ground,  planting  of  trees,  and  such  causes, 
have  materially  modified  some  of  the  extraordinary  exhibi- 
tions that  we  witnessed  when  Kansas  was  supposed  to  be  the 
great  American  desert.  With  all  the  surprises  that  the  ele- 
ments furnished,  there  was  one  that  we  would  gladly  have 


326  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

been  spared.  One  quiet  day  I  heard  a  great  rumbling  in  the 
direction  of  the  plateau  where  we  had  ridden  so  much,  as  if 
many  prairie-schooners,  heavily  laden,  were  being  spirited 
away  by  the  stampede  of  mules.  Next,  our  house  began  to 
rock,  the  bell  to  ring,  and  the  pictures  to  vibrate  on  the  wall. 
The  mystery  was  solved  when  we  ran  to  the  gallery,  and 
found  the  garrison  rushing  out  of  barracks  and  quarters; 
Women  and  children  ran  to  the  parade-ground,  all  hatless, 
some  half-dressed.  Everybody  stared  at  every  one  else, 
turned  pale,  and  gasped  with  fright.  It  was  an  earthquake, 
sufficiently  serious  to  shake  our  stone  quarters  and  overturn 
the  lighter  articles,  while  farther  down  the  gully  the  great 
stove  at  the  sutler's  store  was  tumbled  over  and  the  side  of 
the  building  broken  in  by  the  shock.  There  was  a  deep  fis- 
sure in  the  side  of  the  bank,  and  the  waters  of  the  Big  Blue 
were  so  agitated  that  the  bed  of  the  river  twelve  feet  deep 
was  plainly  visible. 

The  usual  session  of  the  "  Did-you-evers  "  took  place,  and 
resolutions  were  drawn  up — not  committed  to  paper,  how- 
ever— giving  the  opinion  of  women  on  Kansas  as  a  place  of 
residence.  We  had  gone  through  prairie-fire,  pestilence, 
mutiny,  a  river  freshet,  and  finally,  an  earthquake:  enough 
exciting  events  to  have  been  scattered  through  a  lifetime 
were  crowded  into  a  few  weeks.  Yet  in  these  conclaves, 
when  we  sought  sympathy  and  courage  from  one  another, 
there  was  never  a  suggestion  of  returning  to  a  well-regulated 
climate. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

SACRIFICES  AND  SELF-DENIAL  OF  PIONEER  DUTY — CAPTAIN 
ROBBINS  AND  COLONEL  COOK  ATTACKED,  AND  FIGHT  FOR 
THREE  HOURS. 

IT  is  a  source  of  regret,  as  these  pages  grow  daily  under 
my  hand,  that  I  have  not  the  power  to  place  before  the  coun- 
try the  sacrifices  and  noble  courage  endured  by  the  officers 
and  soldiers  of  our  army  in  their  pioneer  work.  I  can  only 
portray,  in  the  simplest  manner,  what  I  saw  them  endure 
unmurmuringly,  as  I  was  permitted  to  follow  in  the  marches 
and  campaigns  of  our  regiment.  I  find  that  it  is  impossible 
to  make  the  life  clear  to  citizens,  even  when  they  ask  me  to 
describe  personally  something  of  frontier  days,  unless  they 
may  have  been  over  the  Plains  in  their  journeys  to  and  from 
the  Pacific  coast.  Even  then,  they  look  from  the  windows 
of  the  Pullman  car  on  to  the  desert,  white  with  alkali,  over 
which  the  heat  rises  in  waves,  and  upon  earth  that  struggles 
to  give  even  life  to  the  hardy  cactus  or  sage-brush.  Then  I 
find  their  attention  is  called  to  our  army,  and  I  sometimes 
hear  a  sympathetic  tone  in  their  voices  as  they  say,  "Ah! 
Mrs.  Custer,  when  I  rode  over  that  God-forgotten  land,  I  be- 
gan to  see  what  none  of  us  at  the  East  ever  realize — the  ter- 
rible life  that  our  army  leads  on  the  Plains."  And  only 
lately,  while  I  was  in  the  West,  a  citizen  described  to  me 
seeing  a  company  of  cavalry,  that  had  made  a  terrific  march, 
come  in  to  the  railroad  at  some  point  in  Arizona.  He  told 
me  of  their  blistered  faces,  their  bloodshot,  inflamed  eyes — 
the  result  of  the  constant  cloud  of  alkali  dust  through  which 
they  marched — the  exhaustion  in  every  limb,  so  noticeable 
in  men  of  splendid  vigor,  with  their  broad  chests,  deep 

327 


328  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

throats,  and  muscular  build,  because  it  told  what  a  fearful 
strain  it  must  have  been  to  have  reduced  such  stalwart 
athletes  to  weakness.  What  effect  it  would  have  to  introduce 
a  body  of  such  indomitable  men  in  the  midst  of  an  Eastern 
city,  tired,  travel-stained,  but  invincible  ! 

After  all,  if  we  who  try  to  be  their  champions  should  suc- 
ceed in  making  this  transfer  by  some  act  of  necromancy,  the 
men  would  be  silent  about  their  sufferings.  Among  the  few 
officers  who  have  written  of  Plains  life,  there  is  scarcely  a 
mention  of  hardships  endured.  As  I  read  over  my  husband's 
magazine  articles  for  the  first  time  in  many  years,  I  find 
scarcely  a  reference  to  the  scorching  sun,  the  stinging  cold, 
the  bleak  winds.  His  narrative  reads  like  the  story  of  men 
who  marched  always  in  sunshine,  coming  across  clear  streams 
of  running  water  and  shady  woods  in  which  to  encamp.  I 
have  been  there;  through  and  through  the  breezy,  buoyant 
tale  I  see  the  background — a  treeless,  arid  plain,  brackish, 
muddy  water,  sandy,  sterile  soil.  The  faces  of  our  gallant 
men  come  up  to  me  in  retrospection,  blistered  and  swollen, 
the  eyes  streaming  with  moisture  from  the  inflaming  dust, 
the  parched  lips  cracked  with  fever  of  unquenched  thirst,  the 
hands,  even,  puffed  and  fiery  with  the  sun-rays,  day  after 
day. 

It  seems  heartless  to  smile  in  the  midst  of  this  vision, 
recalled  to  me  of  what  I  myself  have  seen,  but  I  hear  some 
civilian  say,  as  they  have  often  asked  me  equally  inconsistent 
questions,  "  Well,  why  didn't  they  wear  gloves?"  Where  all 
the  possessions  of  a  man  are  carried  on  the  saddle,  and  the 
food  and  forage  on  pack-mules,  it  would  be  impossible  to 
take  along  gloves  to  last  from  early  spring  till  the  stinging 
cold  of  late  autumn.  Thirst  is  an  unconquerable  foe.  It  is  one 
of  those  enemies  that  may  be  vanquished  on  one  field  and  come 
up,  supported  by  legions  of  fresh  desires,  the  very  next  day. 
I  know  nothing  but  the  ever-present  selfishness  of  our  na- 
tures that  requires  such  persistent  fighting.  Just  fancy,  for 
a  moment,  the  joy  of  reaching  a  river  or  a  stream  on  the 
Plains  !  How  easy  the  march  seemed  beside  its  banks!  At 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY.  329 

any  moment  one  could  descend,  fill  the  canteen,  and  rejoin 
the  column.  It  is  true  the  quality  of  the  water  was  not  of 
the  best,  but  there  comes  a  time,  out  there,  when  quantity 
triumphs.  It  seems  so  good  to  have  enough  of  anything,  for 
the  stinted  supplies  of  all  sorts  make  life  seem  always  meagre 
in  a  country  with  no  natural  resources.  But  woe  be  to  the 
man  who  puts  his  faith  in  a  Western  stream  !  They  used  to 
take  themselves  suddenly  out  of  sight,  down  somewhere  into 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  and  leave  the  bed  dry  as  dust,  wind- 
ing its  tortuous  way  for  miles,  aggravating  us  by  the  constant 
reminder  of  where  water  ought  to  be,  but  where  it  unfortu- 
nately was  not.  This  sudden  disappearance  of  water  is  sup- 
posed to  be  due  to  the  depression  of  the  rocky  beds  of  the 
streams.  A  deep  sand  absorbs  the  moisture  from  the  surface, 
and  draws  down  into  its  depths  all  the  stream.  When  the 
bed  again  rises  nearer  the  surface,  the  stream  comes  to  sight 
once  more.  Whoever,  after  the  water  disappeared,  found 
that  he  must  drink  or  die,  was  obliged  to  stop  and  dig  away 
at  the  dry  bed  of  the  river  until  he  found  moisture.  It  was 
a  desperate  man  that  attempted  it;  one  whose  throat  had 
become  voiceless,  whose  mouth  and  lips  ached  with  the 
swelling  veins  of  overheated  blood;  for,  if  one  delayed  be- 
hind the  column  for  ever  so  short  a  time,  he  was  reminded 
of  his  insecurity  by  a  flash  from  a  pile  of  stones  or  a  bunch 
of  sage-bush  on  the  summit  of  a  low  divide.  The  wily  foe 
that  lurks  in  the  rear  of  a  marching  column  has  no  equal  in 
vigilance. 

And  then,  what  a  generous  being  a  soldier  is  !  How  often 
I  have  seen  them  pass  the  precious  nectar — it  seemed  so  then, 
in  spite  of  its  being  warm  and  alkaline;  and  I  speak  from  ex- 
perience, for  they  have  given  me  a  chance  also — flavored 
with  poor  whiskey  sometimes,  as  that  old  tin  receptacle  which 
Government  furnishes  holds  coffee,  whiskey  or  water,  which- 
ever is  attainable.  I  fear  that,  had  I  scratched  and  dug  slowly 
into  the  soil  with  the  point  of  a  sabre,  and  scooped  up  a  mini- 
mum of  water,  my  eye  on  the  bluff  near,  watching  and  in 
fear  of  an  Indian,  I  should  have  remembered  my  own  parched 


330  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

throat  and  let  the  whole  American  army  go  thirsty.  But  I 
am  thankful  to  say  the  soldier  is  made  of  different  stuff.  It 
is  enough  to  weld  strongest  bonds  of  friendship,  like  those 
in  our  army,  when  it  is  share  and  share  alike;  and  I  am  re- 
minded of  a  stanza  of  soldier  poetry: 

"  There  are  bonds  of  all  sorts  in  this  world  of  ours, 
Fetters  of  friendship  and  ties  of  flowers, 

And  true-lover's  knots,  I  ween; 
The  boy  and  the  girl  are  bound  by  a  kiss, 
But  there's  never  a  bond  of  old  friends  like  this — 
We  have  drunk  from  the  same  canteen." 

I  have,  among  our  Plains  photographs,  a  picture  of  one  of 
the  Western  rivers,  with  no  sort  of  tree  or  green  thing  grow- 
ing on  its  banks.  It  is  the  dreariest  picture  I  ever  saw,  and 
as  it  appears  among  the  old  photographs  of  merry  groups 
taken  in  camp  or  on  porches  covered  with  our  garrison  fam- 
ily, it  gives  me  a  shudder  even  now.  Among  the  photo- 
graphs of  the  bright  side  of  our  life,  this  is  the  skeleton  at 
the  feast  which  comes  up  so  persistently. 

Since  all  rivers  and  streams  in  the  States  are  fringed  with 
trees,  it  is  difficult  to  describe  how  strange  some  of  our  West- 
ern water-ways  appeared  without  so  much  as  a  border  of 
shrubs  or  reeds.  In  looking  over  the  country,  as  we  ascended 
to  a  divide  higher  than  the  rest,  the  stream  lay  before  us, 
winding  on  in  the  curving  lines  of  our  own  Eastern  rivers, 
but  for  miles  and  miles  not  a  vestige  of  green  bordered  the 
banks.  It  seemed  to  me  for  all  the  world  like  an  eye  without 
an  eyelash.  It  was  strange,  unnatural,  weird.  The  white 
alkali  was  the  only  border,  and  that  spread  on  into  the 
scorched  brown  grass,  too  short  to  protect  the  traveler  from  the 
glare  that  was  heightened  by  the  sun  in  a  cloudless  sky.  A 
tree  was  often  a  landmark,  and  was  mentioned  on  the  insuf- 
ficient maps  of  the  country,  such  as  "Thousand-mile  Tree," 
a  name  telling  its  own  story;  or,  "  Lone  Tree,"  known  as  the 
only  one  within  eighty  miles,  as  was  the  one  in  Dakota, 
where  so  many  Indians  buried  their  dead. 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY.  331 

What  made  those  thirsty  marches  a  thousand  times  worse 
was  the  alluring,  aggravating  mirage.  This  constantly  de- 
ceived even  old  campaigners,  and  produced  the  most  harrow- 
ing sort  of  illusions.  Such  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  too  !  for,  as  we 
believed  ourselves  approaching  the  blessed  water,  imagined 
the  air  was  fresher,  looked  eagerly  and  expectantly  for  the 
brown,  shriveled  grass  to  grow  green,  off  floated  the  deluding 
water  farther  and  farther  away. 

As  I  try  to  write  something  of  the  sacrifices  of  the  soldier, 
who  will  not  speak  of  himself,  and  for  whom  so  few  have 
spoken,  there  comes  to  me  another  class  of  heroes,  for  whom 
my  husband  had  such  genuine  admiration,  and  in  whose  be- 
half he  gave  up  his  life — our  Western  pioneer.  A  desperate 
sort  of  impatience  overcomes  me  when  I  realize  how  inca- 
pable I  am  of  paying  them  proper  tribute.  And  yet  how  fast 
they  are  passing  away,  with  no  historians!  and  hordes  of 
settlers  are  sweeping  into  the  western  States  and  Territories, 
quite  unmindful  of  the  soldiers  and  frontiersmen,  who  fought, 
step  by  step,  to  make  room  for  the  coming  of  the  over- 
crowded population  of  the  East.  My  otherwise  charming 
journeys  West  now  are  sometimes  marred  by  the  desire  I  feel 
for  calling  the  attention  of  the  travelers,  who  are  borne  by 
steam  swiftly  over  the  Plains,  to  the  places  where  so  short  a 
time  since  men  toilsomely  traveled  in  pursuit  of  homes.  I 
want  to  ask  those  who  journey  for  pleasure  or  for  a  new  home, 
if  they  realize  what  men  those  were  who  took  their  lives  in 
their  hands  and  prepared  the  way.*  Their  privations  are  for- 


*My  father  went  to  Michigan  early  in  1800,  and  his  long  jour- 
ney was  made  by  stage,  canal-boat  and  schooner.  He  was  not 
only  a  great  while  in  making  the  trip,  but  subject  to  privations, 
illness  and  fatigue,  even  when  using  the  only  means  of  travel  in 
those  early  days.  The  man  who  went  over  the  old  California  trail 
fared  far  worse.  His  life  was  in  peril  from  Indians  all  the  distance, 
besides  his  having  to  endure  innumerable  hardships.  Those  who 
pioneer  in  a  Pullman  car  little  know  what  the  unbeaten  track  held 
for  the  first  comers. 


332  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

gotten,  or  carelessly  ignored,  by  those  who  now  go  in  and 
possess  the  land.  The  graphic  pens  of  Bret  Harte  and  others, 
who  have  written  of  the  frontier,  arrest  the  attention  of  the 
Eastern  man,  and  save  from  oblivion  some  of  the  noble  char- 
acters of  those  early  days.  Still,  these  poets  naturally  seized 
for  portraiture  the  picturesque,  romantic  characters  who  were 
miners  or  scouts — the  isolated  instances  of  desperate  men 
who  had  gone  West  from  love  of  adventure,  or  because  of 
some  tragic  history  in  the  States,  that  drove  them  to  seek 
forgetfulness  in  a  wild,  unfettered  existence  beyond  the  pale 
of  civilization. 

Who  chronicles  the  patient,  plodding,  silent  pioneer,  who, 
having  been  crowded  out  of  his  home  by  too  many  laborers 
in  a  limited  field,  or,  because  he  could  no  longer  wring  sub- 
sistence from  a  soil  too  long  tilled  by  sire  and  grandsire;  or 
possibly  a  returned  volunteer  from  our  war,  who,  finding  all 
places  he  once  filled  closed  up,  was  compelled  to  take  the 
grant  of  land  that  the  Government  gives  its  soldiers,  and  be- 
gin life  all  over  again,  for  the  sake  of  wife  and  children! 
There  is  little  in  these  lives  to  arrest  the  poetical  fancy  of 
those  writers  who  put  into  rhyme  (which  is  the  most  lasting 
of  all  history)  the  lives  otherwise  lost  to  the  world. 

How  often  General  Custer  rode  up  to  these  weary,  plodding 
yeomen,  as  they  turned  aside  their  wagons  to  allow  the  col- 
umn of  cavalry  to  pass!  He  was  interested  in  every  detail  of 
their  lives,  admired  their  indomitable  pluck,  and  helped  them, 
if  he  could,  in  their  difficult  journeys.  Sometimes,  after  a 
summer  of  hardships  and  every  sort  of  discouragement,  we 
met  the  same  people  returning  East,  and  the  General  could 
not  help  being  amused  at  the  grim  kind  of  humor  that  led 
these  men  to  write  the  history  of  their  season  in  one  word  on 
the  battered  cover  of  the  wagon — "  Busted." 

We  were  in  Kansas  during  all  the  grasshopper  scourge, 
when  our  Government  had  to  issue  rations  to  the  starving 
farmers  deprived  of  every  source  of  sustenance.  What  a 
marvel  that  men  had  the  courage  to  hold  out  at  all,  in  those 
exasperating  times,  when  the  crops  were  no  sooner  up  than 


SACRIFICES  OF  PIONEER  DUTY.  333 

every  vestige  of  green  would  be  stripped  from  the  fields! 
Then,  too,  the  struggle  for  water  was  great.  The  artesian 
wells  that  now  cover  the  Western  States  were  too  expensive 
to  undertake  with  the  early  settlers.  The  windmills  that  now 
whirl  their  gay  wheels  at  every  zephyr  of  the  Plains,  and 
water  vast  numbers  of  cattle  on  the  farms,  were  then  un- 
thought  of.  ...  A  would-be  settler  in  Colorado,  in  those 
times  of  deprivation  and  struggle,  wrote  his  history  on  a 
board  and  set  it  up  on  the  trail,  as  a  warning  to  others  com- 
ing after  him:  "  Toughed  it  out  here  two  years.  Result: 
Stock  on  hand,  five  towheads  and  seven  yaller  dogs.  Two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  down  to  water.  Fifty  miles  to  wood 
and  grass.  Hell  all  around.  God  bless  our  home." 

It  would  be  too  painful  to  attempt  to  enumerate  the  rav- 
ages made  by  the  Indians  on  the  pioneer;  and  God  alone 
knows  how  they  faced  life  at  all,  working  their  claims  with  a 
musket  beside  them  in  the  field,  and  the  sickening  dread  of 
returning  to  a  desolated  cabin  ever  present  in  their  heavy 
hearts.  There  are  those  I  occasionally  meet,  who  went 
through  innumerable  hardships,  and  overcame  almost  insur- 
mountable obstacles,  and  who  attained  to  distinction  in  that 
land  of  the  setting  sun;  but  I  find  they  only  remember  the 
jovial  side  of  their  early  days.  Not  long  since  I  had  the  priv- 
ilege of  talking  with  the  Governor  of  one  of  our  Territories. 
He  was  having  an  interview  with  some  Mexican  Senators  by 
means  of  an  interpreter,  and  after  his  business  was  finished, 
he  turned  to  our  party  to  talk  with  enthusiasm  of  his  Terri- 
tory. No  youth  could  be  more  sanguine  than  he  over  the 
prospects,  the  climate,  the  natural  advantages  of  the  hew 
country  in  which  he  had  just  cast  his  lines.  All  his  reminis- 
cences of  his  early  days  in  other  Territories  were  most  inter- 
esting to  me.  General  Custer  was  such  an  enthusiast  over 
our  glorious  West,  that  I  early  learned  to  look  upon  much 
that  I  would  not  otherwise  have  regarded  with  interest,  with 
his  buoyant  feeling.  ...  I  must  qualify  this  statement,  and 
explain  that  I  could  not  always  see  such  glowing  colors  as  did 
he,  while  we  suffered  from  climate,  and  were  sighing  for  such 


334  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

blessings  as  trees  and  water;  but  we  were  both  heart  and  soul 
with  every  immigrant  we  came  across,  and  I  think  many  a 
half-discouraged  pioneer  went  on  his  way,  after  encountering 
my  husband  on  the  westward  trail,  a  braver  and  more  hope- 
ful man. 

How  well  I  remember  the  long  wait  we  made  on  one  of  the 
staircases  of  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  above  which  hung 
then  the  great  picture  by  Leutze,  "  Westward  the  Course  of 
Empire  Takes  its  Way."  We  little  thought  then,  hardly 
more  than  girl  and  boy  as  we  were,  that  our  lives  would  drift 
over  the  country  which  the  admirable  picture  represents. 
The  General  hung  round  it  with  delight,  and  noted  many 
points  that  he  wanted  me  to  enjoy  with  him.  The  picture 
made  a  great  impression  on  us.  How  much  deeper  the  im- 
pression, though,  had  we  known  that  we  were  to  live  out  the 
very  scenes  depicted ! 

Coming  back  to  the  Governor:  I  cannot  take  time  to  write 
his  well-told  story.  The  portion  of  the  interesting  hour  that 
made  the  greatest  impression  on  me  was  his  saying  that  the 
happiest  days  of  his  life  were  those  when,  for  fifteen  hundred 
miles,  he  walked  beside  the  wagon  containing  his  wife  and 
babies,  and  drove  the  team  from  their  old  home  in  Wisconsin 
to  a  then  unsettled  portion  of  Ohio.  The  honors  that  had 
come  to  him  as  senator,  governor,  statesman,  faded  beside 
the  joys  of  his  first  venture  from  home  into  the  wilderness. 
I  saw  him,  in  imagination,  as  I  have  often  seen  the  pioneer, 
looking  back  to  the  opening  made  in  the  front  of  the  wagon 
by  the  drawing  over  of  the  canvas  cover  to  the  puckered  circle, 
in  which  were  framed  the  woman  and  babies  for  whom  he 
could  do  and  dare.  I  fall  to  wondering  if  there  is  any  affec- 
tion like  that  which  is  enhanced  or  born  of  these  sacrifices 
in  each  other's  behalf.  I  wonder  if  there  can  be  anything 
that  would  so  spur  a  man  to  do  heroic  deeds  as  the  feeling 
that  he  walked  in  front  of  three  dependent  beings,  and 
braved  Indians,  starvation,  floods,  prairie-fire,  and  all  those 
perils  that  beset  a  Western  trail;  and  to  see  the  bright,  fond 
eyes  of  a  mother,  and  the  rosy  cheeks  of  the  little  ones,  look- 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY.  335 

ing  uncomplainingly  out  upon  the  desert  before  them — why, 
what  could  nerve  a  man's  arm  like  that?  Love  grows  with 
every  sacrifice,  and  I  believe  that  many  a  youthful  passion, 
that  might  have  become  colorless  with  time,  has  been  deep- 
ened into  lasting  affection  on  those  lonely  tramps  over  the 
prairies. 

It  has  also  been  my  good  fortune  lately  to  recall  our  West- 
ern life  with  an  ex-governor  of  another  Territory,  a  friend  of 
my  husband's  in  those  Kansas  days.  What  can  I  say  in  ad- 
miration of  the  pluck  of  those  Western  men  ?  Even  in  the 
midst  of  his  luxuriant  New  York  life,  he  loves  better  to  dwell 
on  the  early  days  of  his  checkered  career,  when  at  seven 
years  of  age  he  was  taken  by  his  parents  to  the  land  of  the 
then  great  unknown.  He  had  made  a  fortune  in  California, 
for  he  was  a  Forty-niner,  and  returned  East  to  enjoy  it.  But 
as  he  lost  his  all  soon  afterward,  there  was  nothing  left  for  him 
to  do  but  to  start  out  again.  His  wife  could  have  remained 
in  comfort  and  security  with  her  friends,  but  she  preferred  to 
share  the  danger  and  discomforts  of  her  husband's  life. 
Their  first  trip  over  the  old  trail  to  Denver  (our  stamping- 
ground  afterward)  was  a  journey  from  Missouri,  the  outfitting 
place  at  the  termination  of  the  last  railway  going  West,  tak- 
ing sixty-four  days  to  accomplish.  The  wife,  brave  as  she  was, 
fell  ill,  and  lay  on  the  hard  wagon-bed  the  whole  distance. 
The  invincible  father  took  entire  care  of  her  and  of  his  chil- 
dren, cooking  for  the  party  of  eleven  on  the  whole  route, 
and  did  guard  duty  a  portion  of  every  night.  The  Indians 
were  hovering  in  front  and  in  rear.  Two  of  the  party  were 
too  old  to  walk  and  carry  a  musket,  so  that  on  the  five  men 
devolved  the  guarding  of  their  little  train.  Nine  times  after- 
ward he  and  his  wife  crossed  that  long  stretch  of  country  be- 
fore the  railroad  was  completed,  always  in  peril,  and  never 
knowing  from  hour  to  hour  when  a  band  of  hostiles  would 
sweep  down  upon  them.  He  taught  his  children  the  use  of 
fire-arms  as  soon  as  they  were  large  enough  to  hold  a  pistol. 
His  daughter  learned,  as  well  as  his  sons,  to  be  an  accurate 
marksman,  and  shot  from  the  pony's  back  when  he  scamper- 


336  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

ed  at  full  speed  over  the  prairies.  For  years  and  years,  all 
his  family  were  obliged  to  be  constantly  vigilant.  They  liv- 
ed out  a  long  portion  of  their  lives  on  the  alert  for  a  foe  that 
they  knew  well  how  to  dread. 

But  the  humorous  comes  in,  even  in  the  midst  of  such 
tragic  days!  How  I  enjoyed  and  appreciated  the  feelings  of 
the  Governor's  wife,  whom  I  had  known  as  a  girl,  when  she 
rebelled  at  his  exercising  his  heretofore  valuable  accomplish- 
ment as  cook,  after  he  became  Governor.  How  like  a  wo- 
man, and  how  dear  such  whimsicalities  are,  sandwiched  in 
among  the  many  admirable  qualities  with  which  such  strong 
characters  as  hers  are  endowed!  It  seems  that  on  some 
journey  over  the  Plains  they  entertained  a  party  of  guests  the 
entire  distance.  The  cook  was  a  failure,  and  as  the  route 
of  travel  out  there  is  not  lined  with  intelligence-offices,  the 
only  thing  left  to  do  for  the  new-made  Governor,  rather  than 
see  his  wife  so  taxed,  was  to  doff  his  coat  and  recall  the  culi- 
nary gifts  acquired  in  pioneer  life.  The  madame  thought 
her  husband,  now  a  Governor,  might  keep  in  secrecy  his  gifts 
at  getting  up  a  dinner.  But  he  persisted,  saying  that  it  was 
still  a  question  whether  he  would  make  a  good  Governor, 
and  as  he  was  pretty  certain  he  was  a  good  cook,  he  thought 
it  as  well  to  impress  that  one  gift,  of  which  he  was  sure,  upon 
his  constituents. 

The  next  letter  from  the  expedition  brought  me  such  good 
news,  that  I  counted  all  the  frights  of  the  past  few  weeks  as 
nothing,  compared  with  the  opportunity  that  being  in  Fort 
Riley  gave  me  of  joining  my  husband.  He  wrote  that  the 
cavalry  had  been  detached  from  the  main  body  of  the  com- 
mand, and  ordered  to  scout  the  stage -route  from  Fort  Hays 
to  Fort  McPherson,  then  the  most  invested  with  savages.  A 
camp  was  to  be  established  temporarily,  and  scouting  parties 
sent  out  from  Fort  Hays.  To  my  joy,  my  husband  said  in 
his  letter  that  I  might  embrace  any  safe  opportunity  to  join 
him  there.  General  Sherman  proved  to  be  the  direct  answer 
to  my  prayers,  for  he  arrived  soon  after  I  had  begun  to  look 
confidently  for  a  chance  to  leave  for  Fort  Hays. 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY.  337 

With  the  grave  question  of  the  summer  campaign  in  his 
mind,  it  probably  did  not  occur  to  him  that  he  was  acting 
as  the  envoy  extraordinary  of  Divine  Providence  to  a  very  anx- 
ious, lonely  woman.  While  he  talked  with  me  occasionally  of 
the  country,  about  which  he  was  an  enthusiast — and,  oh,  how 
his  predictions  of  its  prosperity  have  come  true  already!— I 
made  out  to  reply  coherently,  but  I  kept  up  a  very  vehement, 
enthusiastic  set  of  inner  thoughts  and  grateful  ejaculations, 
blessing  him  for  every  breath  he  drew,  blessing  and  thanking 
Providence  that  he  had  given  the  commander-in-chief  of  our 
forces  a  heart  so  fresh  and  warm  he  could  feel  for  others,  and 
a  soul  so  loyal  and  affectionate  for  his  own  wife  and  family 
that  he  knew  what  it  was  to  endure  suspense  and  separation. 
He  had  with  him  some  delightful  girls,  whom  we  enjoyed 
very  much.  I  cannot  remember  whether,  in  my  anxiety  to 
go  to  my  husband,  my  conversation  led  up  to  the  subject — 
doubtless  it  did,  for  I  was  then  at  that  youthful  stage  of  ex- 
istence when  the  mouth  speaketh  out  of  the  fullness  of  the 
heart — but  I  do  remember  that  the  heart  in  me  nearly  leaped 
out  of  my  body  when  he  invited  me  to  go  in  his  car  to  Fort 
Harker,  for  the  railroad  had  been  completed  to  that  next 
post. 

Diana  crowded  what  of  her  apparel  she  could  into  her 
trunk,  and  I  had  a  valise,  but  the  largest  part  of  our  luggage 
was  a  roll  of  bedding,  which  1  remember  blushing  over  as  it 
was  handed  into  the  special  coach,  for  there  was  no  baggage- 
car.  It  looked  very  strange  to  see  such  an  ungainly  bundle 
as  part  of  the  belongings  of  two  young  women,  and  though 
I  was  perfectly  willing  to  sleep  on  the  ground  in  camp,  as  I 
had  done  in  Virginia  and  Texas,  I  did  not  wish  to  court  hard- 
ships when  I  knew  a  way  to  avoid  them.  Though  we  went 
over  a  most  interesting  country,  General  Sherman  did  not 
seem  to  care  much  for  the  outside  world.  He  sat  in  the 
midst  of  us,  and  entered  into  all  our  fun;  told  stories  to 
match  ours,  joined  in  our  songs,  and  was  the  Grand  Mogul 
of  our  circle.  One  of  the  young  girls  was  so  captivating, 
even  in  her  disloyalty,  that  it  amused  us  all  immensely. 


338  TENTING    ON   THE    PLAINS. 

When  we  sang  war-songs,  she  looked  silently  out  of  the  win- 
dow. If  we  talked  of  the  danger  we  might  encounter  with 
Indians,  General  Sherman  said,  slyly,  he  would  make  her  de- 
parture from  earth  as  easy  as  possible,  for  he  would  honor 
her  with  a  military  funeral.  She  knew  that  she  must,  in  such 
a  case,  be  wrapped  in  the  Stars  and  Stripes,  and  he  did  not 
neglect  to  tell  her  that  honor  awaited  her  if  she  died,  but  she 
vehemently  refused  the  honor.  All  this,  which  would  have 
been  trying  from  a  grown  person,  was  nothing  but  amuse- 
ment to  us  from  a  chit  of  a  girl,  who  doubtless  took  her  color- 
ing, as  the  chameleon-like  creatures  of  that  age  do,  from  her 
latest  Confederate  sweetheart. 

In  retrospection,  I  like  to  think  of  the  tact  and  tolerance 
of  General  Sherman,  in  those  days  of  furious  feeling  on  both 
sides,  and  the  quiet  manner  in  which  he  heard  the  Southern 
people  decry  the  Yankees.  He  knew  of  their  impoverished 
and  desolated  homes,  and  realized,  living  among  them  as  he 
did  in  St.  Louis,  what  sacrifices  they  had  made;  more  than 
all,  his  sympathetic  soul  saw  into  the  darkened  lives  of  moth- 
ers, wives  and  sisters  who  had  given,  with  their  idea  of  pa- 
triotism, their  loved  ones  to  their  country.  The  truth  is,  he 
was  back  again  among  those  people  of  whom  he  had  been  so 
fond,  and  no  turbulent  expressions  of  hatred  and  revenge 
could  unsettle  the  underlying  affection.  Besides,  he  has  al- 
ways been  a  far-seeing  man.  Who  keeps  in  front  in  our 
country's  progress  as  does  this  war  hero  ?  Is  he  not  a  states- 
man as  well  as  a  soldier?  And  never  have  the  interests  of 
our  land  been  narrowed  down  to  any  prescribed  post  where 
he  may  have  been  stationed,  or  his  life  been  belittled  by  any 
temporary  isolation  or  division  from  the  rest  of  mankind. 
Every  public  scheme  for  our  advancement  as  a  nation  meets 
his  enthusiastic  welcome.  This  spirit  enabled  him  to  see,  at 
the  close  of  the  war,  that,  after  the  violence  of  wrath  should 
have  subsided,  the  South  would  find  themselves  more  pros- 
perous, and  capable,  in  the  new  order  of  affairs,  of  immense 
strides  in  progress  of  all  kinds. 

I  remember  a  Southern  woman,  who  came  to  stay  with 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER   DUTY.  339 

relatives  in  our  garrison,  telling  me  of  her  first  encounter 
with  General  Sherman  after  the  war.  He  had  been  a  valued 
friend  for  many  years;  but  it  was  too  much  when,  on  his  re- 
turn to  St.  Louis,  he  came,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  see  his 
old  friends.  Smarting  with  the  wrongs  of  her  beloved  South, 
she  would  not  even  send  a  message  by  the  maid ;  she  ran  to 
the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  in  an  excited  tone,  asked  if  he 
for  one  moment  expected  she  would  speak,  so  much  as 
speak,  to  a  Yankee  ?  The  General  went  on  his  peaceful  way, 
as  unharmed  by  this  peppery  assault  as  a  foe  who  is  out  of 
reach  of  our  short-range  Government  carbines,  and  I  can  re- 
call with  what  cordiality  she  came  to  greet  him  later  in  the 
year  or  two  that  followed.  No  one  could  maintain  wrath 
long  against  such  imperturbable  good-nature  as  General 
Sherman  exhibited.  He  remembered  a  maxim  that  we  all 
are  apt  to  forget,  "  Put  yourself  in  his  place." 

Along  the  line  of  the  railroad  were  the  deserted  towns, 
and  we  even  saw  a  whole  village  moving  on  flat  cars.  The 
portable  houses  of  one  story  and  the  canvas  rolls  of  tents, 
which  would  soon  be  set  up  to  form  a  street  of  saloons,  were 
piled  up  as  high  as  was  safe,  and  made  the  strangest  sort  of 
freight  train.  The  spots  from  which  they  had  been  removed 
were  absolutely  the  dreariest  of  sights.  A  few  poles,  broken 
kegs,  short  chimneys  made  in  rude  masonry  of  small  round 
stones,  heaps  of  tin  cans  everywhere,  broken  bottles  strew- 
ing the  ground,  while  great  square  holes  yawned  empty 
where,  a  short  time  before,  a  canvas  roof  covered  a  room 
stored  with  clumsy  shelves  laden  with  liquor.  Here  and  there 
a  smoke-stained  barrel  protruded  from  the  ground.  They 
were  the  chimneys  of  some  former  dug-outs.  I  cannot  de- 
scribe how  startled  I  was  when  I  first  came  near  one  of  these 
improvised  chimneys,  and  saw  smoke  pouring  out,  without 
any  other  evidence  that  I  was  walking  over  the  home  of  a 
frontier  citizen.  The  roof  of  a  flat  dug-out  is  level  with  the 
earth,  and  as  no  grass  consents  to  grow  in  these  temporary 
villages,  there  is  nothing  to  distinguish  the  upturned  soil 
that  has  been  used  as  a  covering  for  the  beams  of  the  roof  of 


340  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

a  dwelling  from  any  of  the  rest  of  the  immediate  vicinity.  A 
portion  of  this  moving  village  had  already  reached  the  end 
in  the  railroad,  and  named  itself  Ellsworth,  with  streets  call- 
ed by  various  high-sounding  appellations,  but  marked  only 
by  stakes  in  the  ground. 

At  Fort  Harker  we  found  a  forlorn  little  post — a  few  log 
houses  bare  of  every  comfort,  and  no  trees  to  cast  a  shade 
on  the  low  roofs.  The  best  of  the  quarters,  belonging  to  the 
bachelor  commanding  officer,  were  offered  to  General  Sher- 
man and  his  party.  We  five  women  had  one  of  the  only  two 
rooms.  It  seems  like  an  abuse  of  hospitality,  even  after 
all  these  years,  to  say  that  the  floor  of  uneven  boards  was 
almost  ready  for  agricultural  purposes,  as  the  wind  had  sifted 
the  prairie  sand  in  between  the  roughly  laid  logs,  and  even 
the  most  careful  housewife  would  have  found  herself  outwit- 
ted if  she  had  tried  to  keep  a  tidy  floor.  I  only  remember  it 
because  I  was  so  amused  to  see  the  dainty  women  stepping 
around  the  little  space  left  in  the  room  between  the  cots,  to 
find  a  place  to  kneel  and  say  their  prayers.  I  had  given  up, 
and  gone  to  bed,  as  often  before  I  had  been  compelled  to  tell 
my  thanks  to  the  Heavenly  Father  on  my  pillow,  for  already 
in  the  marches  I  had  encountered  serious  obstacles  to  kneel- 
ing. The  perplexed  but  devout  women  finally  gave  up  at- 
tempting a  devotional  attitude,  turned  their  faces  to  the 
rough  wall,  and  held  their  rosaries  in  their  fingers,  while 
they  sent  up  orisons  for  protection  and  guidance.  They 
were  reverential  in  their  petitions;  but  I  could  not  help  im- 
agining how  strange  it  must  seem  to  these  luxuriously  raised 
girls,  to  find  themselves  in  a  country  where  not  even  a  little 
prayer  could  be  said  as  one  would  wish.  It  must  have  been 
for  exigencies  of  our  life  that  Montgomery  wrote  the  com- 
forting definition  that  "  Prayer  is  the  soul's  sincere  desire," 
"The  upward  lifting  of  an  eye,"  etc.,  and  so  set  the  heart 
at  rest  about  how  and  where  the  supplication  of  the  soul 
could  be  offered. 

At  Fort  Harker  we  bade  good-by  to  our  delightful  party, 
the  frolic  and  light-hearted  ness  departed,  and  the  serious 


SACRIFICES   OF  PIONEER   DUTY. 


341 


side  of  existence  appeared.  I  had  but  little  realization  that 
every  foot  of  our  coming  march  of  eighty  miles  was  danger- 
ous. We  had  an  ambulance  lent  us,  and  accompanied  a  party 
that  had  an  escort.  There  were  stage-stations  every  ten  or 
fifteen  miles,  consisting  of  rude  log  or  stone  huts,  huddled 
together  for  safety  in  case  of  attack.  The  stables  for  the  re- 
lays of  horses  were  furnished  with  strong  doors  of  rough- 
hewn  timber,  and  the  windows  closed  with  shutters  of  similar 
pattern.  The  stablemen  and  relays  of  drivers  lived  in  no  bet- 


A   MATCH   BUFFALO    HUNT. 

ter  quarters  than  the  horses.  They  were,  of  course,  intrepid 
men,  and  there  was  no  stint  in  arming  them  with  good  rifles 
and  abundance  of  ammunition.  They  were  prepared  for  at- 
tack, and  could  have  defended  themselves  behind  the  strong 
doors — indeed,  sustained  a  siege,  for  the  supplies  were  kept 
inside  their  quarters — had  not  the  Indians  used  prepared  ar- 
rows that  could  be  shot  into  the  hay  and  thus  set  the  stables 
on  fire.  These  Plainsmen  all  had  "  dug-outs  "  as  places  of 
retreat  in  case  of  fire.  They  were  very  near  the  stables,  and 
connected  by  an  underground  passage.  They  were  about 
four  feet  deep.  The  roof  was  of  timbers  strong  enough  to 


342  TENTING   ON  THE  PLAINS. 

hold  four  or  five  feet  of  earth,  and  in  these  retreats  a  dozen 
men  could  defend  themselves,  by  firing  from  loopholes  that 
were  left  under  the  roof-beams.  Some  of  the  stage-stations 
had  no  regular  build  ings.  We  came  upon  them  without  being 
prepared  by  any  signs  of  human  life,  for  the  dug-outs  were 
excavated  from  the  sloping  banks  of  the  creeks.  A  few  holes 
in  the  side-hill,  as  openings  for  man  and  beast,  some  short 
chimneys  on  the  level  ground,  were  all  the  evidence  of  the 
dreary,  Columbarium  homes.  Here  these  men  lived,  facing 
death  every  hour  rather  than  earn  a  living  in  the  monotonous 
pursuit  of  some  trade  or  commonplace  business  in  the  States. 
And  at  that  time  there  were  always  desperadoes  who  would 
pursue  any  calling  that  kept  them  beyond  the  reach  of  the 
law. 

This  dreary  eighty  miles  over  a  monotonous  country,  varied 
only  by  the  undulations  that  rolled  away  to  Big  Creek,  was 
over  at  last,  and  Fort  Hays  was  finally  visible — another  small 
post  of  log  huts  like  Fort  Harker,  treeless  and  desolate,  but 
the  stream  beyond  was  lined  with  white  canvas,  which  meant 
the  tents  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry. 

Again  it  seemed  to  me  the  end  of  all  the  troubles  that 
would  ever  enter  into  my  life  had  come,  when  I  was  lifted 
out  of  the  ambulance  into  my  husband's  tent.  What  a  bless- 
ing it  is  that  there  is  a  halcyon  time  in  sanguine  youth,  when 
each  difficulty  vanquished  seems  absolutely  the  last  that  will 
ever  come,  and  when  one  trouble  ends,  the  stone  is  rolled 
against  its  sepulchre  with  the  conviction  that  nothing  will 
ever  open  wide  the  door  again.  We  had  much  to  talk  about 
in  camp.  The  first  campaign  of  a  regiment  is  always  impor- 
tant to  them,  and  in  this  case,  also,  the  council,  the  Indian 
village,  and  its  final  destruction,  were  really  significant  events. 
A  match  hunt  they  had  carried  out  was  a  subject  of  interest, 
and  each  side  took  one  ear  in  turn,  to  explain  why  they  won, 
or  the  reasons  they  lost.  Mr.  Theodore  Davis,  the  artist 
whom  the  Harpers  sent  out  for  the  summer,  was  drawing 
sketches  in  our  tent,  while  we  advised  or  commented.  It 
seemed  well,  from  the  discussions  that  followed,  that  rules 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY. 


343 


GATHERING  AND   COUNTING 
THE   TONGUES. 


for  the  hunt  had  been 
drawn  up  in  advance. 
It  was  quite  a  ranking 
affair,  when  two  full  ma- 
jors conducted  the  sides. 
As  only  one  day  was 
given  to  each  side,  the 
one  remaining  in  camp 
watched  vigilantly  that 
the  party  going  out  held 
to  the  rule,  and  refrained 
from  starting  till  sunrise, 
while  the  same  jealous 
eyes  noticed  that  sunset 
saw  all  of  them  in  camp 
again.  One  of  the  rules 
was,  that  no  shots  should 

be  counted  that  were  fired  when  the  man  was  dismounted. 

This  alone  was  a  hard  task,  as  at  that  time  the  splendid  racing 


344  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

of  the  horse  at  breakneck  speed,  with  his  bridle  free  on  his 
neck,  and  both  hands  busy  with  the  gun,  was  not  an  accom- 
plished feat.  The  horses  were  all  novices  at  buffalo-hunt- 
ing, also,  and  the  game  was  thin  at  that  season — so  thin  that 
a  bison  got  over  a  great  deal  of  territory  in  a  short  time. 
I  remember  the  General's  telling  me  what  an  art  it  was,  even 
after  the  game  was  shot,  to  learn  to  cut  out  the  tongue.  It 
was  wonderful  that  there  was  such  success  with  so  much  to 
encounter.  The  winning  party  kept  their  twelve  tongues 
very  securely  hidden  until  the  second  day,  when  the  losers 
produced  the  eleven  they  had  supposed  would  not  be  out- 
done. My  husband  was  greatly  amused  at  one  of  our  offi- 
cers, who  hovered  about  the  camp-fires  of  the  opposite  party 
and  craftily  put  questions  to  ascertain  what  was  the  result  of 
the  first  day. 

All  this  was  told  us  with  great  glee.  Diana's  interests  were 
centred  in  the  success  of  that  party  with  whom  her  best  be- 
loved, for  the  time,  hunted.  The  officers  regretted  our  ab- 
sence at  their  great  "  feed,"  as  they  termed  it,  and  it  must, 
indeed,  have  been  a  great  treat  to  have  for  once,  in  that 
starving  summer,  something  palatable.  Two  wall-tents  were 
put  together  so  that  the  table,  made  of  rough  boards,  stretch- 
ing through  both,  was  large  enough  for  all.  Victors  and 
vanquished  toasted  each  other  in  champagne,  and  though 
the  scene  was  the  plainest  order  of  banquet,  lighted  by  tallow 
candles  set  in  rude  brackets  sawed  out  of  cracker-box  boards 
and  fastened  to  the  tent-poles,  and  the  only  draping  a  few 
cavalry  guidons,  the  evening  brightened  up  many  a  dreary 
day  that  followed.  Gallant  Captain  Louis  McLane  Hamil- 
ton, who  afterward  fell  in  the  battle  of  the  Washita,  was  the 
hero  of  the  hour,  and  bore  his  honors  with  his  usual  mod- 
esty. Four  out  of  twelve  buffaloes  was  a  record  that  might 
have  set  a  less  boastful  tongue  wagging  over  the  confidences 
of  the  evening  camp-fire.  I  do  not  think  he  would  have  per- 
mitted Mr.  Davis  to  put  his  picture  in  the  illustration  if  he 
could  have  helped  it.  He  was  gifted  with  his  pencil  also;  he 
drew  caricatures  admirably,  and  after  a  harmless  laugh  had 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER   DUTY. 


345 


gone  the  rounds,  he  managed,  with  the  utmost  adroitness,  to 
get  possession  of  the  picture  and  destroy  it,  thus  taking  away 
the  sting  of  ridicule,  which  constant  sight  of  the  caricature 


SUPPER    GIVEN    BY   THE   VANQUISHED    TO    THE    VICTORS    OF   THE 
MATCH    BUFFALO    HUNT. 


might  produce.  How  I  came  into  possession  of  one  little 
drawing  is  still  a  mystery,  but  it  is  very  clever.  Among  our 
officers  was  one  who  had  crossed  the  Plains  as  a  citizen  a 
year  or  two  previous,  and  his  habit  of  revealing  mines  of 


346  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

frontier  lore  obtained  on  this  one  trip  was  somewhat  tire- 
some to  our  still  inexperienced  officers.  At  last,  after  all  had 
tried  chasing  antelope,  and  been  more  and  more  impressed 
in  their  failures  with  the  fleetness  of  that  winged  animal, 
Captain  Hamilton  made  a  sketch  representing  the  boaster  as 
shooting  antelope  with  the  shot-gun.  The  speck  on  the  hor- 
izon was  all  that  was  seen  of  the  game,  but  the  booted  and 
spurred  man  kneeling  on  the  prairie  was  admirable.  It 
silenced  one  of  the  stories,  certainly,  and  we  often  wished 
the  pencil  could  protect  us  further  from  subsequent  state- 
ments airily  made  on  the  strength  of  the  one  stage-journey. 
I  had  arrived  in  the  rainy  season,  and  such  an  emptying  of 
the  heavens  was  a  further  development  of  what  Kansas  could 
do.  But  nothing  damped  my  ardor;  no  amount  of  soakings 
could  make  me  think  that  camping-ground  was  not  an  Elys- 
ian  field.  The  General  had  made  our  tent  as  comfortable 
as  possible  with  his  few  belongings,  and  the  officers  had  sent 
in  to  him,  for  me,  any  comfort  that  they  might  have  chanced 
to  bring  along  on  the  march.  I  was,  it  seemed,  to  be  espec- 
ially honored  with  a  display  of  what  the  elements  could  do 
at  night  when  it  was  too  dark  to  grope  about  and  protect 
our  tent.  The  wind  blew  a  tornado,  and  the  flashes  of  light- 
ning illumined  the  tent  and  revealed  the  pole  swaying  omi- 
nously back  and  forth.  A  fly  is  an  outer  strip  of  canvas 
which  is  stretched  over  the  tent  to  prevent  the  rain  from 
penetrating,  as  well  as  to  protect  us  in  the  daytime  from  the 
sun.  This  flapped  and  rattled  and  swung  loose  at  one  end, 
beating  on  the  canvas  roof  like  a  trip-hammer,  for  it  was 
loaded  with  moisture;  and  the  wet  ropes  attached  to  it,  and 
used  to  guy  it  down,  were  now  loose,  and  lashed  our  rag 
house  in  an  angry,  vindictive  manner.  My  husband,  accus- 
tomed to  the  pyrotechnic  display  of  the  elements,  slept 
soundly  through  the  early  part  of  the  storm.  But  lightning 
"  murders  sleep  "  with  me,  and,  consequently,  he  was  awak- 
ened by  a  conjugal  joggle,  and  on  asking,  "What  is  it?" 
was  informed,  "  It  lightens  !  "  Often  as  this  statement  was 
made  to  him  in  his  sudden  awakenings,  I  do  not  remember 


SACRIFICES   OF  PIONEER   DUTY.  347 

his  ever  meeting  it  with  any  but  a  teasing,  laughing  reply, 
like:  "  Ah  !  indeed;  I  am  pleased  to  be  informed  of  so  im- 
portant a  fact.  This  news  is  quite  unexpected,"  and  so  on, 
or  "When,  may  I  inquire,  did  you  learn  this?"  On  this 
occasion,  however,  there  was  no  attempt  to  quiet  me  or  de- 
lay precautions.  Feeling  sure  that  we  were  in  for  it  for  the 
night,  he  unfastened  the  straps  that  secured  the  tent  in  front, 
and  crept  out  to  hammer  down  the  tent-pins  and  tether  the 
ropes.  But  it  was  of  no  earthly  use.  After  fruitless  efforts 
of  his  own,  he  called  the  guard  from  their  tents,  and  they 
went  energetically  to  work  with  the  light  of  our  lantern. 
Ropes  wrenched  themselves  away  from  the  tent-pins,  straps 
broke,  whole  corners  of  the  tent  were  torn  out,  even  while 
the  men  were  hanging  with  all  their  might  to  the  upright 
poles  to  try  and  keep  the  ridge-pole. steady,  and  clinging  to 
the  ropes  to  keep  them  from  loosening  entirely  and  sailing 
off  in  the  air  with  the  canvas. 

In  the  midst  of  this  fracas,  with  the  shouts  of  the  soldiers 
calling  to  one  another  in  the  inky  darkness,  the  crash  of 
thunder  and  the  howling  of  the  tempest,  the  wife  of  a  brave 
soldier  was  hiding  her  head  under  the  blankets,  and  not  one 
sound  emerged  from  this  temporary  retreat.  The  great  joy 
of  getting  out  to  camp  at  last  was  too  fresh  to  extract  one 
word,  one  whimper  of  fear  from  under  the  bedding.  The 
sunniest  day  at  Fort  Riley  could  not  be  exchanged,  could  not 
even  be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath,  with  that  tornado  of 
wind  and  rain. 

The  stalwart  arms  of  the  soldiers  failed  at  last.  Their 
brawny  chests  were  of  no  more  use,  thrust  against  the  tent- 
poles,  than  so  many  needles.  Over  went  the  canvas  in  a 
heap,  the  General  and  his  men  hanging  on  to  the  ridge-pole 
to  clear  it  from  the  camp  bed  and  save  any  accident. 

The  voices  of  officers  in  an  adjoining  tent  called  out  to 
come  over  to  them.  One,  half  dressed,  groped  his  way  to  us 
and  said  there  was  yet  room  for  more  in  his  place,  and,  be- 
sides, he  had  a  floor.  It  was  a  Sibley,  which,  having  no  cor- 
ners with  which  those  Kansas  breezes  can  toy,  is  much  more 


34$  TENTING   ON  THE  PLAINS. 

secure.  I  was  rolled  in  the  blankets  and  carried  through  the 
blinding  rain  to  our  hospitable  neighbors'.  The  end  of  a 
tallow  dip  gave  me  a  glimpse  only  of  many  silent  forms  rolled 
in  blankets  and  radiating  from  the  centre  like  the  spokes  of 
a  wagon  wheel.  The  officer  owning  this  tent  had  taken  the 
precaution,  while  at  Leavenworth,  to  have  a  floor  made  in 
sections,  so  that  it  could  be  easily  stowed  away  in  the  bottom 
of  a  prairie-schooner  in  marching. 

My  husband  laid  me  down,  and  we  were  soon  two  more 
spokes  in  the  human  wheel,  and  asleep  in  a  trice.  Next 
morning  I  wakened  to  find  myself  alone,  with  a  tin  basin  of 
water  and  a  towel  for  my  toilet  beside  me.  My  husband  had 
to  dress  me  in  his  underclothing,  for  everything  I  had  was 
soaked.  My  shoes  were  hopeless,  so  I  was  dropped  into  a 
pair  of  cavalry  boots,  and  in  this  unpicturesque  costume, 
which  I  covered  as  best  I  could  with  my  wet  dress,  I  was  car- 
ried through  the  mud  to  the  dining-tent,  and  enthroned  a  la 
Turk,  on  a  board  which  the  cook  produced  from  some  hid- 
ing-place, where  he  had  kept  it  for  kindlings.  There  were 
not  a  few  repetitions  of  this  stormy  reception  in  the  years  that 
followed,  for  Kansas  continued  its  weather  vagaries  with  un- 
ceasing persistency,  but  this,  being  my  first,  is  as  fresh  in  my 
mind  as  if  it  occurred  but  yesterday. 

The  tent  might  go  down  nightly  for  all  1  cared  then. 
Every  thought  of  separation  departed,  and  I  gave  myself  up 
to  the  happiest  hours,  clamping  about  the  tent  in  those  old 
troop  boots,  indifferent  whether  my  shoes  ever  dried.  The 
hours  flew  too  fast,  though,  for  very  soon  preparations  began 
for  a  scout,  which  my  husband  was  to  command.  It  took  a 
great  deal  of  comforting  to  reconcile  me  to  remaining  behind. 
The  General,  as  usual,  had  to  beg  me  to  remember  how 
blessed  we  were  to  have  been  permitted  to  rejoin  each  other 
so  early  in  the  summer.  He  told  me,  over  and  over  again, 
that  there  was  nothing,  he  felt,  that  I  would  not  encounter 
to  come  to  him,  and  that  if  he  was  detained,  he  would  send 
for  me.  Eliza  and  a  faithful  soldier  were  to  be  left  to  care  for 
us.  The  cavalry  departed,  and  again  the  days  lengthened 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY.  349 

out  longer  and  longer,  until  each  one  seemed  forty-eight 
hours  from  sun  to  sun.  We  could  scarcely  take  a  short  walk 
in  safety.  The  Indians  were  all  about  us,  and  daily  the  sen- 
tinels were  driven  in,  or  attempts  were  made  to  stampede 
the  horses  and  mules  grazing  about  the  post.  The  few  offi- 
cers remaining,  in  whose  care  we  were  placed,  came  or  sent 
every  day  to  our  tents,  which  were  up  the  creek  a  short  dis- 
tance, to  inquire  what  they  could  do  for  our  comfort.  Mrs. 
Gibbs,  with  her  boys,  had  joined  her  husband,  and  we  were 
their  neighbors. 

It  seemed,  sometimes,  as  if  we  must  get  outside  of  our  pre- 
scribed limits,  the  rolling  bluffs  beyond,  tinged  with  green 
and  beginning  to  have  prairie  flowers,  looked  so  tempting. 
One  evening  we  beguiled  an  officer,  who  was  sitting  under 
our  tent  fly,  which  was  stretched  in  front  for  a  shade,  to  take 
us  for  a  little  walk.  Like  many  another  man  in  the  tempo- 
rary possession  of  wheedling  women,  he  went  with  us  a  little, 
and  "just  a  little  farther."  Diana  would  have  driven  all 
thought  of  everything  else  save  herself  out  of  the  gravest 
head.  At  last  o*ur  escort  saw  the  dark  coming  on  so  fast  he 
insisted  upon  going  home,  and  we  reluctantly  turned.  As 
we  came  toward  the  post,  the  shadows  were  deepening  in  the 
twilight,  and'  the  figures  of  the  sentinels  were  not  visible.  A 
flash,  followed  by  a  sound  past  our  ears,  that  old  campaign- 
ers describe  as  never  to  be  forgotten  when  first  heard,  was 
the  warning  that  we  three  were  taken  for  Indians  and  fired 
upon  by  the  sentinel.  Another  flash,  but  we  stood  rooted  to 
the  spot,  stunned  by  surprise.  The  whizz  and  zip  of  the  bul- 
let seemed  to  be  only  a  few  inches  from  my  ear.  Still  we 
were  dazed,  and  had  not  the  officer  gained  his  senses  our  fate 
would  have  been  then  and  there  decided.  The  recruit,  prob- 
ably himself  terrified,  kept  on  sending  those  deadly  little 
missives,  with  the  terrible  sound  cutting  the  air  around  us. 
Our  escort  shouted,  but  it  was  too  far  for  his  voice  to  carry. 
Then  he  told  us  to  run  for  our  lives  to  a  slight  depression  in 
the  ground,  and  throw  ourselves  on  our  faces.  I  was  coward 
enough  to  burrow  mine  in  the  prairie-grass,  and  for  once  in 


350  TENTING    ON   THE   PLAINS. 

my  life  was  devoutly  grateful  for  being  slender.  Still,  as  I  lay 
there  quaking  with  terror,  my  body  seemed  to  rise  above  the 
earth  in  such  a  monstrous  heap  that  the  dullest  marksman, 
if  he  tried,  might  easily  perforate  me  with  bullets.  What 
ages  it  seemed  while  we  waited  in  this  prostrate  position, 
commanded  by  our  escort  not  to  move!  The  rain  of  bullets 
at  last  ceased,  and  blessed  quiet  came,  but  not  peace  of  mind. 
The  officer  told  us  he  would  creep  on  his  hands  and  knees 
through  the  hollow  portions  of  the  plain  about  the  post,  ap- 
proach by  the  creek  side,  and  inform  the  sentinels  along  the 
line,  and  as  soon  as  they  all  knew  who  we  were  he  would 
return  for  us.  With  smothered  voices  issuing  from  the  grass 
where  our  faces  were  still  crushed  as  low  as  we  could  get 
them,  we  implored  to  be  allowed  to  creep  on  with  him.  We 
prayed  him  not  to  leave  us  out  in  the  darkness  alone.  We 
begged  him  to  tell  us  how  he  could  ever  find  us  again,  if  once 
he  left  us  on  ground  that  had  no  distinctive  features  by  which 
he  could  trace  his  way  back.  But  he  was  adamant:  we  must 
remain;  and  the  ring  of  authority  in  his  tone,  besides  the  cul- 
prit feeling  we  had  for  having  endangered  his  life,  kept  us 
still  at  last.  As  we  lay  there,  our  hearts'  thumping  seemed 
to  lift  us  up  in  air  and  imperil  anew  our  wretched  existence. 
The  pretty,  rounded  contour  of  the  girl,  which  she  had  nat- 
urally taken  such  delight  in,  was  now  a  source  of  agony  to 
her,  and  she  moaned  out,  "  Oh!  how  high  I  seem  to  be  above 
you!  Oh,  Libbie,  do  you  think  I  lie  as  flat  to  the  ground  as 
you  do?"  and  so  on,  with  all  the  foolish  talk  of  frightened 
women. 

When  at  last  our  deliverer  came,  my  relief  at  such  an  es- 
cape was  almost  forgotten  in  the  mortification  I  felt  at  having 
made  so  much  trouble;  and  I  thought,  with  chagrin,  how 
quickly  the  General's  gratitude  to  find  we  had  escaped  the 
bullets  would  be  followed  by  temporary  suspension  of  faith 
regarding  my  following  out  his  instructions  not  to  run  risks 
of  danger  and  wander  away  from  the  post.  I  wrote  him  an 
abject  account  of  our  hazardous  performance.  I  renewed 
every  promise.  I  asked  to  be  trusted  again,  and  from  that 


SACRIFICES   OF   TIONEER    DUTY.  351 

time  there  were  no  more  walks  outside  the  beat  of  the  senti- 
nel. 

An  intense  disappointment  awaited  me  at  this  time,  and 
took  away  the  one  hope  that  had  kept  up  my  spirits.  I  was 
watching,  from  day  to  day,  an  opportunity  to  go  to  my  hus- 
band at  Fort  McPherson,  for  he  had  said  I  could  come  if  any 
chance  offered.  I  was  so  lonely  and  anxious,  I  would  gladly 
have  gone  with  the  scout  who  took  despatches  and  mail, 
though  he  had  to  travel  at  night  and  lie  in  the  ravines  all  day 
to  elude  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  Indians.  I  remember  watching 
Wild  Bill,  as  he  reported  at  the  commanding  officer's  tent  to 
get  despatches  for  my  husband,  and  wishing  with  all  my 
heart  that  I  could  go  with  him.  I  know  this  must  seem 
strange  to  people  in  the  States,  whose  ideas  of  scouts  are 
made  up  from  stories  of  shooting  affrays,  gambling,  lynching 
and  outlawry.  I  should  have  felt  myself  safe  to  go  any  dis- 
tance with  those  men  whom  my  husband  employed  as  bear- 
ers of  despatches.  I  have  never  known  women  treated  with 
such  reverence  as  those  whom  they  honored.  They  were 
touched  to  see  us  out  there,  for  they  measured  well  every 
danger  of  that  countiy;  and  the  class  that  followed  the  mov- 
ing railroad  towns  were  their  only  idea  of  women,  except  as 
they  caught  glimpses  of  us  in  camp  or  on  the  march.  In 
those  border-towns,  as  we  were  sometimes  compelled  to  walk 
a  short  distance  from  the  depot  to  our  ambulance,  the  rough 
characters  in  whom  people  had  ceased  to  look  for  good  were 
transformed  in  their  very  attitude  as  we  approached.  Of 
course,  they  all  knew  and  sincerely  admired  the  General, 
and,  removing  their  hats,  they  stepped  off  the  walk  and  cast 
such  looks  at  me  as  if  I  had  been  little  lower  than  the  angels. 
When  these  men  so  looked  at  me,  my  husband  was  as  proud 
as  if  a  President  had  manifested  pleasure  at  sight  of  his  wife, 
and  amused  himself  immensely  because  I  said  to  him,  after 
we  were  well  by,  that  the  outlaws  had  seemed  to  think  me 
possessed  of  every  good  attribute,  while  to  myself  my  faults 
and  deficiencies  appeared  to  rise  mountains  high.  I  felt  that 
if  there  was  a  Christian  grace  that  my  mother  had  not  striven 


3$2  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

to  implant  in  me,  1  would  cultivate  it  now,  and  try  to  live  up 
to  the  frontier  citizen's  impression  of  us  as  women. 

I  think  the  General  would  have  put  me  in  the  care  of  any 
scout  that  served  him,  just  as  readily  as  to  place  me  in  the 
keeping  of  the  best  officer  we  had.  There  was  not  a  trust  he 
reposed  in  them  that  they  did  not  fulfill.  Oh,  how  hard 
it  was  for  me  to  see  them  at  that  time,  when  starting 
with  despatches  to  my  husband,  swing  themselves  into  the 
saddle  and  disappear  over  the  divide!  I  feel  certain,  with 
such  an  end  in  view  as  I  had,  and  with  the  good  health  that 
the  toughening  of  our  campaigns  had  given  me,  I  could  have 
ridden  all  night  and  slept  on  the  horse-blanket  in  the  ravines 
daytimes,  for  a  great  distance.  Had  1  been  given  the  oppor- 
tunity to  join  my  husband  by  putting  myself  in  their  charge, 
there  would  not  have  been  one  moment's  hesitation  on  my 
part.  J  knew  well  that  when  "  off  duty  "  the  scout  is  often 
in  affrays  where  lynching  and  outlawry  are  e very-day  events 
of  the  Western  towns;  but  that  had  no  effect  upon  these 
men's  sense  of  honor  when  an  officer  had  reposed  a  trust  in 
them.  Wild  Bill,  California  Joe,  Buffalo  Bill,  Comstock, 
Charlie  Reynolds,  and  a  group  of  intrepid  men  besides,  who 
from  time  to  time  served  under  my  husband,  would  have  de- 
fended any  of  us  women  put  in  their  charge  with  their  lives. 

I  remember  with  distinctness  what  genuine  admiration  and 
gratitude  filled  my  heart  as  these  intrepid  men  rode  up  to  my 
husband's  tent  to  receive  orders  and  despatches.  From  my 
woman's  standpoint,  it  required  far  more  and  a  vastly  higher 
order  of  courage  to  undertake  their  journeys  than  to  charge 
in  battle.  With  women,  every  duty  or  task  seems  easier 
when  shared  by  others.  The  most  cowardly  of  us  might  be 
so  impressionable,  so  sympathetic,  in  a  great  cause  that  we 
saw  others  preparing  to  defend,  that  it  would  become  our 
own;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  enthusiasm  might  take 
even  a  timid  woman  into  battle,  excited  and  incited  by  the 
daring  of  others,  the  bray  of  drums,  the  clash  of  arms,  the 
call  of  the  trumpet.  But  I  doubt  if  there  are  many  who 
could  go  off  on  a  scout  of  hundreds  of  miles,  and  face  death 


SACRIFICES   OF   PIONEER    DUTY.  353 

alone.  It  still  seems  to  me  supreme  courage.  Imagine, 
then,  my  gratitude,  my  genuine  admiration,  when  my  hus- 
band sent  scouts  with  letters  to  us,  and  we  saw  them  in 
returning  swing  lightly  into  the  saddle  and  gallop  off,  ap- 
parently unconcerned,  freighted  with  our  messages  of  af- 
fection. 

Something  better  than  such  a  journey  awaited  me,  it 
seemed,  when  two  of  our  Seventh  Cavalry  officers,  Captain 
Samuel  Robbins  and  Colonel  William  W.  Cook,  appeared  in 
camp  at  the  head  of  a  detachment  of  cavalry  and  a  small  train 
of  wagons  for  supplies.  The  General  had  told  them  to  bring 
me  back,  and  an  ambulance  was  with  the  wagons,  in  which 
I  was  to  ride.  It  did  not  take  me  long  to  put  our  roll  of 
bedding  and  my  valise  in  order;  and  to  say  anything  about 
the  heart  in  me  leaping  for  joy  is  even  a  tame  expression  to 
describe  the  delight  that  ran  through  every  vein  in  my  body. 
To  ascend  such  heights  of  joy  means  a  corresponding  capa- 
bility of  descent  into  a  region  of  suffering,  about  which  I  do 
not,  even  now,  like  to  think,  for  the  memory  of  my  disap- 
pointment has  not  departed  after  all  these  years.  The  com- 
manding officer  of  the  department  was  at  the  post  temporar- 
ily, and  forbade  my  going.  There  is  a  hateful  clause  in  the 
Army  Regulations  which  gives  him  control  of  all  camp-fol- 
lowers as  well  as  troops.  I  ran  the  whole  gamut  of  insubor- 
dination, mutiny,  and  revolt,  as  I  threw  myself  alone  on  the 
little  camp-bed  of  our  tent.  This  stormy,  rebellious  season, 
fought  out  by  myself,  ended,  of  course,  as  everything  must 
that  gives  itself  into  military  jurisdiction,  as  I  was  left  behind 
in  spite  of  myself;  but  I  might  have  been  enlisted  as  a  soldier 
for  five  years,  and  not  have  been  more  helpless.  I  put  my 
fingers  into  my  ears,  not  to  hear  the  call  "  Boots  and  Sad- 
dles! "as  the  troops  mounted  and  rode  away.  I  only  felt 
one  relief;  the  officers  would  tell  the  General  that  nothing 
but  the  all-powerful  command  forbidding  them  to  take  me 
had  prevented  my  doing  what  he  knew  I  would  do  if  it  was 
in  my  power.  I  had  time  also  to  use  my  husband  as  a  safety- 
valve,  and  pour  out  my  vials  of  wrath  against  the  officer  de- 


354  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

taining  me,  in  a  long  letter  filling  pages  with  regret  that  I 
was  prevented  going  to  him. 

The  Indians  were  then  at  their  worst.  They  roamed  up 
and  down  the  route  of  travel,  burning  the  stations,  running 
off  stock,  and  attacking  the  stages.  General  Hancock  had 
given  up  all  aggressive  measures.  The  plan  was,  to  defend 
the  route  taken  for  supplies,  and  protect  the  stage  company's 
property  so  far  as  possible.  The  railroad  building  was  almost 
entirely  abandoned.  As  our  officers  and  their  detachment 
were  for  a  time  allowed  to  proceed  quietly  on  their  march  to 
McPherson,  they  rather  flattered  themselves  they  would  see 
nothing  of  the  enemy.  Still,  every  eye  watched  the  long 
ravines  that  intersect  the  Plains  and  form  such  fastnesses  for 
the  wily  foe.  There  is  so  little  to  prepare  you  for  these  cuts 
in  the  smooth  surface  of  the  plain,  that  an  ungarded  traveler 
comes  almost  upon  a  deep  fissure  in  the  earth,  before  dream- 
ing that  the  lay  of  the  land  was  not  all  the  seeming  level  that 
stretches  on  to  sunset.  These  ravines  have  small  clumps  of 
sturdy  trees,  kept  alive  in  the  drought  of  that  arid  climate  by 
the  slight  moisture  from  what  is  often  a  buried  stream  at  the 
base.  The  Indians  know  them  by  heart,  and  not  only  lie  in 
wait  in  them,  but  escape  by  these  gullies,  that  often  run  on, 
growing  deeper  and  deeper  till  the  bed  of  a  river  is  reached. 

In  one  of  these  ravines,  six  hundred  savages  in  full  war- 
dress were  in  ambush,  awaiting  the  train  of  supplies,  and 
sprang  out  from  their  hiding-place  with  horrible  yells  as  our 
detachment  of  less  than  fifty  men  approached.  Neither 
officer  lost  his  head  at  a  sight  that  was  then  new  to  him. 
Their  courage  was  inborn.  They  directed  the  troops  to  form 
a  circle  about  the  wagons,  and  in  this  way  the  little  band  of 
valiant  men  defended  themselves  against  attack  after  attack. 
Not  a  soldier  flinched,  nor  did  a  Jeamster  lose  control  of  his 
mules,  though  the  effort  to  stampede  them  was  incessant, 
This  running  fight  lasted  for  three  hours,  when  suddenly  the 
Indians  withdrew.  They,  with  their  experienced  eyes,  first 
saw  the  reinforcements  coming  to  the  relief  of  our  brave  fel- 
lows, and  gave  up  the  attack. 


SACRIFICES  OF  PIONEER   DUTY.  355 

The  first  time  I  saw  Colonel  Cook  after  this  affair,  he  said: 
"  The  moment  I  found  the  Indians  were  on  us,  and  we  were 
in  for  a  fight,  I  thought  of  you,  and  said  to  myself,  '  If  she 
were  in  the  ambulance,  before  giving  an  order  I  would  ride 
up  and  shoot  her.'  "  "  Would  you  have  given  me  no  chance 
for  life,"  I  replied,  "in  case  the  battle  had  gone  in  your 
favor?"  "Not  one,"  he  said.  "I  should  have  been  un- 
nerved by  the  thought  of  the  fate  that  awaited  you,  and  I 
have  promised  the  General  not  to  take  any  chances,  but  to 
kill  you  before  anything  worse  could  happen."  Already,  in 
these  early  days  of  the  regiment's  history,  the  accounts  of 
Indian  atrocities  perpetrated  on  the  wonien  of  the  frontier 
ranches,  had  curdled  the  blood  of  our  men,  and  over  the 
camp-fire  at  night,  when  these  stories  were  discussed,  my 
husband  had  said  to  the  officers  that  he  should  take  every 
opportunity  to  have  me  with  him,  but  there  was  but  one 
course  he  wished  pursued;  if  I  was  put  in  charge  of  any 
one  in  the  regiment,  he  asked  them  to  kill  me  if  Indians 
should  attack  the  camp  or  the  escort  on  the  march.  I  have 
referred  in  general  terms  to  this  understanding,  but  it  was  on 
this  occasion  that  the  seriousness  with  which  the  General's 
request  was  considered  by  his  brother  officers  first  came  home 
to  me. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A  FLOOD   AT   FORT   HAYS. 

BEFORE  General  Custer  left  for  Fort  McPherson,  he  re- 
moved our  tents  to  a  portion  of  that  branch  of  Big  Creek  on 
which  the  post  was  established.  He  selected  the  highest 
ground  he  could  find,  knowing  that  the  rainy  season  was  not 
yet  over,  and  hoping  that,  if  the  camp  were  on  a  knoll,  the 
ground  would  drain  readily  and  dry  quickly  after  a  storm. 
We  were  not  a  great  distance  from  the  main  stream  and  the 
fort,  but  still  too  far  to  recognize  anyone  that  might  be  walk- 
ing in  garrison.  The  stream  on  which  we  were  located  was 
tortuous,  and  on  a  bend  above  us  the  colonel  commanding, 
his  adjutant  and  his  escort  were  established.  Between  us 
and  the  fort,  General  and  Mrs.  Gibbs  were  camped,  while  the 
tents  of  a  few  officers  on  detached  duty  were  still  farther  on. 
The  sentinel's  beat  was  along  a  line  between  us  and  the  high 
ground,  where  the  Indians  were  likely  to  steal  upon  us  from 
the  bluffs.  This  guard  walked  his  tour  of  duty  on  a  line 
parallel  with  the  stream,  but  was  too  far  from  it  to  observe 
the  water  closely.  Each  little  group  of  tents  made  quite  a 
show  of  canvas,  as  we  had  abundance  of  room  to  spread  out, 
and  the  quartermaster  was  not  obliged  to  limit  us  to  any  giv- 
en number  of  tents.  We  had  a  hospital  tent  for  our  sitting- 
room,  with  a  wall-tent  pitched  behind  and  opening  out  of  the 
larger  one,  for  our  bedroom.  There  was  a  wall-tent  for  the 
kitchen,  near,  and  behind  us,  the  "  A  "  tent  for  the  soldier 
whom  the  General  had  left  to  take  care  of  us  in  his  absence. 
We  were  as  safely  placed,  as  to  Indians,  as  was  possible  in 
such  a  country.  As  is  the  custom  in  military  life,  the  officers 

356 


A   FLOOD   AT    FORT   HAYS.  357 

either  came  every  day,  or  sent  to  know  if  I  could  think  of 
anything  they  could  do  for  my  comfort.  The  General  had 
thought  of  everything,  and,  besides,  I  did  my  best  not  to 
have  any  wants.  I  was  as  capable  of  manufacturing  needs  as 
anyone,  and  could  readily  trump  up  a  collection  in  garrison, 
but  I  was  rendered  too  wary  by  the  uncertainty  of  my  tenure 
of  that  (to  me)  valuable  little  strip  of  ground  that  held  my 
canvas  house,  to  allow  my  presence  to  be  brought  home  to 
those  gallant  men  as  a  trouble  or  a  responsibility.  The  idea 
that  I  might  have  to  retreat  eastward  was  a  terror,  and  kept 
in  subjection  any  passing  wish  I  might  indulge  to  have  any- 
thing done  for  me.  1  would  gladly  have  descended  into  one 
of  the  cellar-like  habitations  that  were  so  common  in  Kansas 
then,  and  had  my  food  handed  down  to  me,  if  this  would 
have  enabled  the  officers  to  forget  that  I  was  there,  until  the 
expedition  returned  from  the  Platte.  Yet  the  elements  were 
against  me,  and  did  their  best  to  interfere  with  my  desire  to 
obliterate  myself,  as  far  as  being  an  anxiety  to  others  was 
concerned. 

One  night  we  had  retired,  and  were  trying  to  believe  that 
the  thunder  was  but  one  of  those  peculiar  menacing  volleys 
of  cloud-artillery  that  sometimes  passed  over  harmlessly;  but 
we  could  not  sleep,  the  roar  and  roll  of  thunder  was  so  alarm- 
ing. There  is  no  describing  lightning  on  the  Plains.  While 
a  storm  lasts,  there  seems  to  be  an  incessant  glare.  To  be 
sure,  there  is  not  the  smallest  flash  that  does  not  illumine  the 
tent,  and  there  is  no  way  of  hiding  from  the  blinding  light. 
In  a  letter  written  to  my  husband  while  the  effect  of  the  fright 
was  still  fresh  on  my  mind,  I  told  him  "the  heavens  seemed 
to  shower  down  fire  upon  the  earth,  and  in  one  minute 
and  a  half  we  counted  twenty-five  distinct  peals  of  thunder." 
There  seemed  to  be  nothing  for  us  to  do  but  to  lie  quaking 
and  terrified  under  the  covers.  The  tents  of  the  officers  were 
placed  at  some  distance  from  ours  intentionally,  as  it  is  im- 
possible to  speak  low  enough,  under  canvas,  to  avoid  being 
heard,  unless  a  certain  space  intervenes.  It  is  the  custom  to 
allow  a  good  deal  of  ground  to  intervene,  if  the  guard  is  so 


358  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

posted  as  to  command  the  approach  to  all  the  tents.  The 
result  was,  that  we  dared  not  venture  to  try  to  reach  a  neigh- 
bor; we  simply  had  to  endure  the  situation,  as  no  cry  could 
be  heard  above  the  din  of  the  constantly  increasing  storm. 
In  the  midst  of  this  quaking  and  misery,  the  voice  of  some 
officers  outside  called  to  ask  if  we  were  afraid.  Finding  that 
the  storm  was  advancing  to  a  tornado,  they  had  decided  to 
return  to  us  and  render  assistance  if  they  could,  or  at  least 
to  quiet  our  fears.  The  very  sound  of  their  voices  calmed  us, 
and  we  dressed  and  went  into  the  outer  tent  to  admit  them. 
The  entrance  had  been  made  secure  by  leather  straps  and 
buckles  that  the  General  had  the  saddler  put  on;  and  in 
order  to  strengthen  the  tents  against  these  hurricanes,  which 
we  had  already  learned  were  so  violent  and  sudden,  he  had 
ordered  poles  at  each  corner  sunk  deep  into  the  ground. 
These,  being  notched,  had  saplings  laid  across  either  side, 
and  to  these  the  tent-ropes  were  bound.  We  were  thus 
seemingly  secured  between  two  barriers.  He  even  went 
further  in  his  precautions,  and  fastened  a  picket-rope,  which 
is  a  small  cable  of  itself,  to  either  end  of  the  ridge-pole, 
stretching  it  at  the  front  and  rear,  and  fasting  it  with  an  iron 
pin  driven  into  the  ground.  As  we  opened  two  or  three  of 
the  straps  to  admit  the  officers  and  Eliza,  who  always  over- 
came every  obstacle  to  get  to  me  in  danger,  the  wind  drove 
in  a  sheet  of  rain  upon  us,  and  we  found  it  difficult  to  strap 
the  opening  again.  As  for  the  guy-ropes  and  those  that  tied 
the  tent  at  the  sides,  all  this  creaking,  loosening  cordage 
proved  how  little  we  could  count  upon  its  stability.  The 
great  tarpaulin,  of  the  heaviest  canvas  made,  which  was 
spread  over  our  larger  tent  and  out  in  the  front  for  a  porch, 
flapped  wildly,  lashing  our  poor  little  "rag  house  "  as  if  in  a 
fury  of  rage.  Indeed,  the  whole  canvas  seemed  as  if  it  might 
have  been  a  cambric  handkerchief,  for  the  manner  in  which 
it  was  wrenched  and  twisted  above  and  on  all  sides  of  us. 
The  tallow  candle  was  only  kept  lighted  by  surrounding  it 
with  boxes  to  protect  its  feeble  flame  from  the  wind.  The 
rain  descended  in  such  sheets,  driven  by  the  hurricane,  that 


A   FLOOD   AT   FORT   HAYS.  359 

it  even  pressed  in  the  tent-walls;  and  in  spite  of  the  trenches, 
that  every  good  campaigner  digs  about  the  tent,  we  were 
almost  inundated  by  the  streams  that  entered  under  the 
lower  edge  of  the  walls. 

The  officers,  finding  we  were  sure  to  be  drenched,  began 
to  fortify  us  for  the  night.  They  feared  the  tent  would  go 
down,  and  that  the  ridge-pole  of  a  hospital-tent,-  being  so 
much  larger  than  that  of  a  wall-tent,  would  do  some  fatal  in- 
jury to  us.  They  piled  all  the  available  furniture  in  a  hollow 
square,  leaving  a  little  space  for  us.  Fortunately,  some  one, 
coming  down  from  the  post  a  few  days  before,  had  observed 
that  we  had  no  table.  There  was  no  lumber  at  the  post,  and 
the  next  best  thing  was  to  send  us  a  zinc-covered  board  which 
had  first  served  for  a  stove  ;  secondly,  with  the  addition  of 
rude  supports,  as  our  table,  and  now  did  duty  in  its  third 
existence  as  a  life-preserver  ;  for  the  ground  was  softening 
with  the  moisture,  and  we  could  not  protect  our  feet,  except 
for  the  narrow  platform  on  which  we  huddled.  At  last  the 
booming  of  the  thunder  seemed  to  abate  somewhat,  though 
the  wind  still  shrieked  and  roared  over  the  wide  plain,  as  it 
bore  down  upon  our  frail  shelter.  But  the  tent,  though 
swaying  and  threatening  to  break  from  its  moorings,  had 
been  true  to  us  through  what  we  supposed  to  be  the  worst  of 
the  tempest,  and  we  began  to  put  some  confidence  in  the 
cordage  and  picket-pins.  The  officers  decided  to  return  to 
their  tents,  promising  to  come  again  should  there  be  need, 
and  we  reluctantly  permitted  them  to  go.  Eliza  put  down 
something  on  which  we  could  step  over  the  pools  into  the 
other  tent,  and  we  fell  into  bed,  exhausted  with  terror  and 
excitement,  hardly  noticing  how  wet  and  cold  we  and  the 
blankets  were. 

Hardly  had  we  fallen  into  a  doze,  when  the  voice  of  the 
guard  at  the  entrance  called  out  to  us  to  get  up  and  make 
haste  for  our  lives  ;  the  flood  was  already  there  !  We  were  so 
agitated  that  it  was  difficult  even  to  find  the  clothes  that  we 
had  put  under  the  pillow  to  keep  them  from  further  soaking, 
much  more  to  get  into  them.  It  was  then  impossible  to  re- 


360  TENTING  ON  THE   PLAINS. 

main  inside  of  the  tent.  We  crept  through  the  opening,  and, 
to  our  horror,  the  lightning  revealed  the  creek— which  we 
had  last  seen,  the  night  before,  a  little  rill  in  the  bottom  of 
the  gully — now  on  a  level  with  the  high  banks.  The  tops  of 
good-sized  trees,  which  fringed  the  stream,  were  barely  vis- 
ible, as  the  current  swayed  the  branches  in  its  onward  sweep. 
The  water  had  risen  in  that  comparatively  short  time  thirty- 
five  feet,  and  was  then  creeping  into  the  kitchen  tent,  which, 
as  usual,  was  pitched  near  the  bank.  I  believe  no  one  at- 
tempted to  account  for  those  terrific  rises  in  the  streams, 
except  as  partly  due  to  water-spouts,  which  were  common  in 
the  early  days  of  Kansas.  I  have  seen  the  General  hold  his 
watch  in  his  hand  after  the  bursting  of  a  rain-cloud,  and  keep 
reckoning  for  the  soldier  who  was  measuring  with  a  stick  at 
the  stream's  bed,  and  for  a  time  it  recorded  an  inch  a  minute. 

Of  course  the  camp  was  instantly  astir  after  the  alarm  of 
the  guard.  But  the  rise  of  the  water  is  so  insidious  often, 
that  a  sentinel  walking  his  beat  a  few  yards  away  will  some- 
times be  unconscious  of  it  until  the  danger  is  upon  the  troops. 
The  soldiers,  our  own  man,  detailed  as  striker,  and  Eliza, 
were  not  so  "stampeded,"  as  they  expressed  it,  as  to  forget 
our  property.  Almost  everything  that  we  possessed  in  the 
world  was  there,  much  of  our  property  being  fortunately  still 
boxed.  I  had  come  out  to  camp  with  a  valise,  but  the  wagon- 
train  afterward  brought  most  of  our  things,  as  we  supposed 
we  had  left  Fort  Riley  forever.  The  soldiers  worked  like 
beavers  to  get  everything  they  could  farther  from  the  water, 
upon  a  little  rise  of  ground  at  one  side  of  our  tents.  Eliza, 
the  coolest  of  all,  took  command,  and  we  each  carried  what 
we  could,  forgetting  the  lightning  in  our  excitement. 

The  officers  who  had  come  to  us  in  the  early  part  of  the 
tempest  now  returned.  They  found  their  own  camp  unap- 
proachable. The  group  of  tents  having  been  pitched  on  a 
bend  in  the  crooked  stream,  which  had  the  advantage  of  the 
circle  of  trees  that  edged  the  water,  was  now  found  to  be  in 
the  worst  possible  locality,  as  the  torrent  had  swept  over  the 
narrow  strip  of  earth  and  left  the  camp  on  a  newly  made 


A   FLOOD   AT   FORT    HAYS.  361 

island,  perfectly  inaccessible.  The  lives  of  the  men  and 
horses  stranded  on  this  little  water-locked  spot  were  in  im- 
minent peril.  The  officers  believed  us  when  we  said  we  would 
do  what  we  could  to  care  for  ourselves  if  they  would  go  at 
once,  as  they  had  set  out  to  do,  and  find  succor  for  the  sol- 
diers. It  was  a  boon  to  have  something  that  it  was  necessary 
to  do,  which  kept  us  from  absolute  abandonment  to  terror. 
We  hardly  dared  look  toward  the  rushing  torrent  ;  the  agony 
of  seeing  the  water  steal  nearer  and  nearer  our  tent  was  almost 
unendurable.  As  we  made  our  way  from  the  heap  of  house- 
hold belongings,  back  and  forth  to  the  tent,  carrying  burdens 
that  we  could  not  even  have  lifted  in  calmer  moments,  the 
lightning  became  more  vivid  and  the  whole  arc  above  us 
seemed  aflame.  We  were  aghast  at  what  the  brilliant  light 
revealed.  Between  the  bluffs  that  rose  gradually  from  the 
stream,  and  the  place  where  we  were  on  its  banks,  a  wide 
newly  made  river  spread  over  land  that  had  been  perfectly 
dry,  and,  as  far  as  any  one  knew,  had  never  been  inundated 
before.  The  water  had  overflowed  the  banks  of  the  stream 
above  us,  and  swept  across  the  slight  depression  that  inter- 
vened between  our  ground  and  the  hills.  We  were  left  on 
that  narrow  neck  of  land,  and  the  water  on  either  side  of  us, 
seen  in  the  lightning's  glare,  appeared  like  two  boundless 
seas.  The  creek  had  broken  over  its  banks  and  divided  us 
from  the  post  below,  while  the  garrison  found  themselves  on 
an  island  also,  as  the  water  took  a  new  course  down  there, 
and  cut  them  off  from  the  bluffs.  This  was  a  misfortune  to 
us,  as  we  had  so  small  a  number  of  men  and  sorely  needed 
what  help  the  post  could  have  offered. 

While  we  ran  hither  and  thither,  startled  at  the  shouts  of 
the  officers  and  men  as  they  called  to  one  another,  dreading 
some  new  terror,  our  hearts  sinking  with  uncontrollable  fright 
at  the  wild  havoc  the  storm  was  making,  the  two  dogs  that 
the  General  valued,  Turk,  the  bull-dog,  and  Rover,  his  fa- 
vorite fox-hound,  broke  their  chains  and  flew  at  each  other's 
throat.  Their  warfare  had  been  long  and  bloody,  and  they 
meant  that  night  to  end  the  contest.  The  ferocity  of  the 


362-  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

bull-dog  was  not  greater  than  that  of  the  old  hound.  The 
soldiers  sprang  at  them  again  and  again  to  separate  them. 
The  fangs  of  each  showed  partly  buried  in  the  other's  throat, 
but  finally,  one  powerful  man  choked  the  bull-dog  into  re- 
laxing his  hold.  The  remnants  of  the  gashed  and  bleeding 
contestants  were  again  tied  at  a  secure  distance,  and  the  sol- 
diers renewed  their  work  to  prevent  the  tents  from  falling. 
I  remember  that  in  one  gale,  especially  furious,  seventeen 
clung  to  the  guy-rope  in  front  and  saved  the  canvas  from 
downfall. 

But,  after  all,  something  worse  awaited  us  than  all  this  fury 
of  the  elements  and  the  dread  of  worse  to  come  to  ourselves  ; 
for  the  reality  of  the  worst  that  can  come  to  anyone  was  then 
before  us  without  a  warning.  There  rang  out  on  the  air, 
piercing  our  ears  even  in  the  uproar  of  the  tempest,  sounds 
that  no  one,  once  hearing,  ever  forgets.  They  were  the  de- 
spairing cries  of  drowning  men.  In  an  instant  our  danger 
was  forgotten  ;  but  the  officers  and  men  were  scattered  along 
the  stream  beyond  our  call,  and  Eliza  was  now  completely 
unnerved.  We  ran  up  and  down  the  bank,  wringing  our 
hands,  she  calling  to  me,  "  Oh,  Miss  Libbie  !  what  shall  we 
do  ?  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  We  tried  to  scream  to  those  dark 
forms  hurrying  by  us,  that  help  might  come  farther  down. 
Alas  !  the  current  grew  more  furious  as  the  branch  poured 
into  the  main  stream,  and  we  could  distinguish,  by  the  oft- 
repeated  glare  of  the  lightning,  the  men  waving  their  arms 
imploringly  as  they  were  swept  down  with  tree-trunks,  masses 
of  earth,  and  heaps  of  rubbish  that  the  current  was  drifting 
by.  We  were  helpless  to  attempt  their  rescue.  There  can  be 
few  moments  in  existence  that  hold  such  agonizing  suffering 
as  those  where  one  is  appealed  to  for  life,  and  is  powerless  to 
give  succor.  I  thought  of  the  ropes  about  our  tent,  and  ran 
to  unwind  one  ;  but  they  were  lashed  to  the  poles,  stiff  with 
moisture,  and  tied  with  sailors'  intricate  knots.  In  a  frenzy, 
I  tugged  at  the  fastenings,  bruising  my  hands  and  tearing  the 
nails.  The  guy-ropes  were  equally  unavailable,  for  no  knife 
we  had  could  cut  such  a  cable. 


A   FLOOD   AT   FORT    HAYS.  363 

Eliza,  beside  herself  with  grief  to  think  she  could  not  help 
the  dying  soldiers  with  whom  she  had  been  such  a  favorite, 
came  running  to  me  where  I  was  insanely  struggling  with 
the  cordage,  and  cried,  "Miss  Libbie,  there's  a  chance  for 
us  with  one  man.  He's  caught  in  the  branches  of  a  tree; 
but  I've  seen  his  face,  and  he's  alive.  He's  most  all  of  him 
under  water,  and  the  current  is  a-switchin'  him  about  so  he 
can't  hold  out  long.  Miss  Libbie,  there's  my  clothes-line  we 
could take,  but  I  can't  do  it,  I  can't  do  it !  Miss  Libbie,  you 
wouldn't  have  me  to  do  it,  would  you  ?  For  where  will  we 
get  another?"  The  grand  humanity  that  illumined  the 
woman's  face,  full  of  the  nobility  of  desire  to  save  life,  was 
so  interwoven  with  frugality  and  her  inveterate  habit  of  pro- 
tecting our  things,  that  I  hardly  know  how  the  controversy 
in  her  own  mind  would  have  ended  if  I  had  not  flown  to  the 
kitchen  tent  to  get  the  clothes-line.  The  current  swayed  the 
drowning  man  so  violently  he  was  afraid  to  loosen  his  hold 
of  the  branches  to  reach  the  rope  as  we  threw  it  to  him  over 
and  over  again,  and  it  seemed  momentarily  that  he  must  be 
torn  from  our  sight.  The  hue  of  death  was  on  his  face — 
that  terrible  blue  look — while  the  features  were  pinched  with 
suffering,  and  the  eyes  starting  from  their  sockets.  He  was 
naked  to  the  waist,  and  the  chill  of  the  water,  and  of  those 
hours  that  come  before  dawn,  had  almost  benumbed  the  fin- 
gers that  clutched  the  branches.  Eliza,  like  me,  has  forgot- 
ten nothing  that  happened  during  that  horrible  night,  and  I 
give  part  of  her  story,  the  details  of  which  it  is  so  difficult 
for  me  to  recall  with  calmness  : 

"  Miss  Libbie,  don't  you  mind  when  we  took  the  clothes- 
line an'  went  near  to  him  as  we  could  get,  he  didn't  seem  to 
understan'  what  we  was  up  to?  We  made  a  loop  and  showed 
it  to  him,  when  a  big  flash  of  lightnin'  came  and  made  a 
glare,  and  tried  to  call  to  him  to  put  it  over  his  head.  The 
noise  of  the  water,  and  the  crashin'of  the  logs  that  was  comin' 
down,  besifle  the  thunder,  drownded  out  our  voices.  Well, 
we  worked  half  an  hour  over  that  man.  He  thought  you 
and  me,  Miss  Libbie,  couldn't  pull  him  in — that  we  wasn't 


364  TENTING   ON  THE   PLAINS. 

strong  enough.  He  seemed  kind  o'  dazed-like;  and  the  only 
way  I  made  him  know  what  the  loop  was  for,  I  put  it  on  over 
my  body  and  made  signs.  Even  then,  he  was  so  swept  un- 
der that  part  of  the  bank,  and  it  was  so  dark,  I  didn't  think 
we  could  get  him.  I  could  hear  him  bubblin',  bellowin', 
drownin'  and  gaggin'.  Well,  we  pulled  him  in  at  last, 
though  I  got  up  to  my  waist  in  water.  He  was  cold  and  blue, 
his  teeth  chatterin';  he  just  shuck  and  shuck,  and  his  eyes 
was  perfectly  wild.  We  had  to  help  him,  for  he  could  hardly 
walk  to  the  cook  tent.  I  poured  hot  coffee  down  him;  and, 
Miss  Libbie,  you  tore  aroun'  in  the  dark  and  found  your  way 
to  the  next  tent  for  whisky,  and  the  lady  that  never  was 
known  to  keep  any  before,  had  some  then.  And  I  wrapped 
the  drownded  man  in  the  blouse  the  Ginnel  give  me.  It  was 
cold,  and  I  was  wet  and  I  needed  it,  Miss  Libbie;  but  didn't 
that  man,  as  soon  as  ever  his  teeth  stopped  a-chatterin',  jest 
get  up  and  walk  off  with  it?  And,  Miss  Libbie,  the  Ginnel 
wrote  to  you  after  that,  from  some  expedition,  that  he  had 
seen  the  soldier  Eliza  gave  her  clothes-line  to  save,  and  he 
sent  his  thanks  and  asked  how  I  was,  and  said  I  had  saved 
his  life.  I  just  sent  back  word,  in  the  next  letter  you  wrote 
the  Ginnel,  to  ask  if  that  man  said  anything  about  my  blouse 
he  wore  off  that  night.  You  gave  one  of  the  Ginnel's  blue 
shirts  to  a  half-naked,  drownded  man.  We  saved  two  more 
and  wrapped  'em  in  blankets,  and  you  rubbed  'em  with  red 
pepper,  and  kept  the  fire  red-hot,  and  talked  to  them,  tryin' 
to  get  the  shiver  and  the  scare  out  of  'em.  I  tell  you,  Miss 
Libbie,  we  made  a  fight  for  their  lives,  if  ever  any  one  did. 
The  clothes-line  did  it  all.  One  was  washed  near  to  our  tent, 
and  I  grabbed  his  hand.  We  went  roun'  with  our  lanterns, 
and  it  was  so  dark  we  'spected  every  moment  to  step  into  a 
watery  grave,  for  the  water  was  so  near  us,  and  the  flashes  of 
lightnin'  would  show  that  it  was  a-comin'  on  and  on.  Turk 
and  Rover  would  fight  just  by  looking  at  each  other,  and  in 
all  that  mess  they  fell  on  each  other,  an'  I  was  sure  they  was 
goin'  to  kill  each  other,  and,  oh,  my!  the  Ginnel  would  have 
taken  on  so  about  it  !  But  the  soldiers  dragged  them  apart." 


A    FLOOD   AT   FORT    HAYS.  365 

Seven  men  were  drowned  near  our  tent,  and  their  agoniz- 
ing cries,  when  they  were  too  far  out  in  the  current  for  us  to 
throw  our  line,  are  sounds  that  will  never  be  stilled.  The 
men  were  from  the  Colonel's  escort  on  the  temporary  island 
above  us.  The  cavalrymen  attempted,  as  the  waters  rose 
about  them,  to  swim  their  horses  to  the  other  shore;  but  all 
were  lost  who  plunged  in,  for  the  violence  of  the  current 
made  swimming  an  impossibility.  A  few  negro  soldiers  be- 
longing to  the  infantry  were  compelled  to  remain  where  they 
were,  though  the  water  stood  three  feet  in  some  of  the  tents. 
When  the  violence  of  the  storm  had  abated  a  little,  one  of 
the  officers  swam  the  narrowest  part  of  the  stream,  and, 
taking  a  wagon-bed,  made  a  ferry,  so  that  with  the  help  of 
soldiers  that  he  had  left  behind  holding  one  end  of  the  rope 
he  had  taken  over,  the  remaining  soldiers  were  rescued  and 
brought  down  to  our  little  strip  of  land.  Alas  !  this  nar- 
rowed and  narrowed,  until  we  all  appeared  to  be  doomed. 
The  officers  felt  their  helplessness  when  they  realized  that 
four  women  looked  to  them  for  protection.  They  thought 
over  every  imaginable  plan.  It  was  impossible  to  cross  the 
inundated  part  of  the  plain,  though  their  horses  were  sad- 
dled, with  the  thought  that  each  one  might  swim  with  us 
through  the  shallowest  of  the  water.  They  rode  into  this 
stretch  of  impassable  prairie,  but  the  water  was  too  swift, 
even  then,  to  render  it  anything  but  perilous.  They  decided 
that  if  the  water  continued  to  rise  with  the  same  rapidity  we 
would  be  washed  away,  as  we  could  not  swim,  nor  had  we 
strength  to  cling  to  anything.  This  determined  them  to  re- 
sort to  a  plan  that,  happily,  we  knew  nothing  of  until  the 
danger  was  passed.  We  were  to  be  strapped  to  the  Gatling 
guns  as  an  anchorage.  These  are,  perhaps,  the  lightest  of 
all  artillery,  but  might  have  been  heavy  enough  to  resist  the 
action  of  what  current  rose  over  our  island.  There  would 
have  been  one  chance  in  ten  thousand  of  rescue  under  such 
circumstances,  but  I  doubt  if  being  pinioned  there,  watching 
the  waves  closing  around  us,  would  have  been  as  merciful  as 
permitting  us  to  float  off  into  a  quicker  death. 


366  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

While  the  officers  and  men  with  us  were  working  with  all 
their  might  to  save  lives  and  property,  the  little  post  was  be- 
leaguered. The  flood  came  so  unexpectedly  that  the  first 
known  of  it  was  the  breaking  in  of  the  doors  of  the  quarters. 
The  poorly  built,  leaky,  insecure  adobe  houses  had  been  hereto- 
fore a  protection,  but  the  freshet  filled  them  almost  instantly 
with  water.  The  quarters  of  the  laundresses  were  especially  en- 
dangered, being  on  even  lower  ground  than  the  officers' 
houses.  The  women  were  hurried  out  in  their  night-dresses, 
clasping  their  crying  children,  while  they  ran  to  places 
pointed  out  by  the  officers,  to  await  orders.  Even  then,  one 
of  our  Seventh  Cavalry  officers,  who  happened  to  be  tempo- 
rarily at  the  garrison,  clambered  up  to  the  roof  of  an  adobe 
house  to  discover  whether  the  women  of  his  regiment  were 
in  peril.  The  same  plan  for  rescue  was  adopted  at  the  post 
that  had  been  partly  successful  above.  A  ferry  was  impro- 
vised out  of  a  wagon-bed,  and  into  this  were  collected  the 
women  and  children.  The  post  was  thus  emptied  in  time  to 
prevent  loss  of  life.  First  the  women,  then  the  sick  from  the 
hospital,  and  finally  the  drunken  men;  for  the  hospital  liquor 
was  broken  into,  and  it  takes  but  a  short  time  to  make  a  sol- 
dier helplessly  drunk.  The  Government  property  had  to  be 
temporarily  abandoned,  and  a  great  deal  was  destroyed  or 
swept  away  by  the  water.  It  was  well  that  the  camp  women 
were  inured  to  hardship,  for  the  condition  in  which  the  cold, 
wet,  frightened  creatures  landed,  without  any  protection  from 
the  storm,  on  the  opposite  bank,  was  pitiful.  One  laundress 
had  no  screams  of  terror  or  groans  of  suffering  over  physical 
fright;  her  wails  were  loud  and  continuous  because  her  sav- 
ings had  been  left  in  the  quarters,  and  facing  death  in  that 
frail  box,  as  she  was  pulled  through  the  turbid  flood,  was 
nothing  to  the  pecuniary  loss.  It  was  all  the  men  could  do  to 
keep  her  from  springing  into  the  wagon-  bed  to  return  and 
search  for  her  money. 

On  still  another  branch  of  Big  Creek  there  was  another 
body  of  men  wrestling  with  wind  and  wave.  Several  com- 
panies, marching  to  New  Mexico,  had  encamped  for  the 


A   FLOOD   AT   FORT    HAYS.  367 

night,  and  the  freshet  came  as  suddenly  upon  them  as  upon 
all  of  us.  The  colonel  in  command  had  to  seize  his  wife, 
and  wade  up  to  his  arms  in  carrying  her  to  a  safe  place.  Even 
then,  they  were  warned  that  the  safety  was  but  temporary.  The 
ambulance  was  harnessed  up,  and  they  drove  through  water 
that  almost  swept  them  away,  before  they  reached  higher 
ground.  There  was  a  strange  coincidence  about  the  death, 
eventually,  of  this  officer's  wife.  A  year  afterward  they  were 
encamped  on  a  Texas  stream,  with  similar  high  banks,  be- 
tokening freshets,  and  the  waters  rose  suddenly,  compelling 
them  to  take  flight  in  the  ambulance  again;  but  this  time 
the  wagon  was  overturned  by  the  current,  and  the  poor  wo- 
man was  drowned. 

When  the  day  dawned,  we  were  surrounded  by  water,  and 
the  havoc  about  us  was  dreadful.  But  what  a  relief  it  was 
to  have  the  rain  cease,  and  feel  the  comfort  of  daylight! 
Eliza  broke  up  her  bunk  to  make  a  fire,  and  we  had  breakfast 
for  everybody,  owing  to  her  self-sacrifice!  The  water  began 
to  subside,  and  the  place  looked  like  a  vast  laundry.  All  the 
camp  was  flying  with  blankets,  bedding  and  clothes.  We 
were  drenched,  of  course,  having  no  dry  shoes  even,  to  re- 
place those  in  which  we  had  raced  about  in  the  mud  during 
the  night.  But  these  were  small  inconveniences,  compared 
with  the  agony  of  terror  that  the  night  had  brought.  As  the 
morning  advanced,  and  the  stream  fell  constantly,  we  were 
horrified  by  the  sight  of  a  soldier,  swollen  beyond  all  recogni- 
tion, whose  drowned  body  was  imbedded  in  the  side  of  the 
bank,  where  no  one  could  reach  it,  and  where  we  could  not 
escape  the  sight  of  it.  He  was  one  who  had  implored  us  to 
save  him,  and  our  failure  to  do  so  seemed  even  more  terrible 
than  the  night  before,  as  we  could  not  keep  our  fascinated 
gaze  from  the  stiffened  arm  that  seemed  to  have  been  stretch- 
ed out  entreatingly. 

Though  we  were  thankful  for  our  deliverance,  the  day  was  a 
depressing  one,  for  the  horror  of  the  drowning  men  nearuscould 
not  be  put  out  of  our  minds.  As  night  came  on  again,  the  clouds 
began  to  look  ominous;  it  was  murky,  and  it  rained  a  little. 


368 


A   FLOOD   AT   FORT    HAYS.  369 

At  dark  word  came  from  the  fort,  to  which  some  of  the 
officers  had  returned,  that  we  must  attempt  to  get  to  the  high 
ground,  as  the  main  stream,  Big  Creek,  was  again  rising. 
All  the  officers  were  alarmed.  They  kept  measuring  the  ad- 
vance of  the  stream  themselves,  and  guards  were  stationed 
at  intervals,  to  note  the  rise  of  the  water  and  report  its  prog- 
ress. The  torch-lights  they  held  were  like  tiny  fire-flies,  so 
dark  was  the  night.  An  ambulance  was  driven  to  our  tent 
to  make  the  attempt  to  cross  the  water,  which  had  abated 
there  slightly,  and,  if  possible,  to  reach  the  divide  beyond. 
One  of  the  officers  went  in  advance,  on  horseback,  to  try  the 
depth  of  the  water.  It  was  a  failure,  and  the  others  forbade 
our  going,  thinking  it  would  be  suicidal.  While  they  were 
arguing,  Diana  and  I  were  wrapping  ourselves  in  what  out- 
side garments  we  had  in  the  tent.  She  had  been  plucky 
through  the  terrible  night,  writing  next  morning  to  the  Gen- 
eral that  she  never  wished  herself  for  one  moment  at  home, 
and  that  even  with  such  a  fright  she  could  never  repay  us  for 
bringing  her  out  to  a  life  she  liked  so  much.  Yet  as  we 
tremblingly  put  on  our  outside  things,  she  began  to  be  agi- 
tated over  a  subject  so  ridiculous  in  such  a  solemn  and  dan- 
gerous hour,  that  I  could  not  keep  my  face  from  what  might 
have  been  a  smile  under  less  serious  circumstances.  Her 
trepidation  was  about  her  clothes.  She  asked  me  anxiously 
what  she  should  do  for  dresses  next  day,  and  insisted  that 
she  must  take  her  small  trunk.  In  vain  I  argued  that  we  had 
nowhere  to  go.  We  could  but  sit  in  the  ambulance  till  dawn, 
even  if  we  were  fortunate  enough  to  escape  to  the  bluff.  She 
still  persisted,  saying,  "  What  if  we  should  reach  a  fort,  and 
I  was  obliged  to  appear  in  the  gown  I  now  wear  ?  "  I  asked 
her  to  remember  that  the  next  fort  was  eighty  miles  distant, 
with  enough  water  between  it  and  us  to  float  a  ship,  not  to 
mention  roving  bands  of  Indians  lying  in  wait;  but  this  by  no 
means  quieted  her  solicitude  about  her  appearance.  At  last 
I  suggested  her  putting  on  three  dresses,  one  over  the  other, 
and  then  taking,  in  the  little  trunk  from  which  she  could  not 
part,  the  most  necessary  garments  and  gowns.  When  I 


370  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

went  out  to  get  into  the  wagon,  after  the  other  officers  had 
left,  and  found  our  one  escort  determined  still  to  venture,  I 
was  obliged  to  explain  that  Diana  could  not  make  up  her 
mind  to  part  with  her  trunk.  He  was  astounded  that  at  such 
an  hour,  in  such  a  dangerous  situation,  clothes  should  ever 
enter  anyone's  head.  But  the  trunk  appeared  at  the  entrance 
of  the  tent,  to  verify  my  words.  He  argued  that  with  a 
wagon  loaded  with  several  people,  it  would  be  perilous  to 
add  unnecessary  weight  in  driving  through  such  ground. 
Then,  with  all  his  chivalry,  working  night  and  day  to  help 
us,  there  came  an  instant  when  he  could  no  longer  do  justice 
to  the  occasion  in  our  presence;  so  he  stalked  off  to  one  side,, 
and  what  he  said  to  himself  was  lost  in  the  growl  of  the 
thunder. 

The  trunk  was  secured  in  the  ambulance,  and  Diana,  Eliza 
and  I  followed.  There  we  sat,  getting  wetter,  more  fright- 
ened and  less  plucky  as  the  time  rolled  on.  Again  were  we 
forbidden  to  attempt  this  mode  of  escape,  and  condemned  to 
return  to  the  tent,  which  was  vibrating  in  the  wind  and 
menacing  a  downfall.  No  woman  ever  wished  more  ardently 
for  a  brown-stone  front  than  I  longed  for  a  dug-out.  Any 
hole  in  the  side  of  a  bank  would  have  been  a  palace  to  me, 
living  as  I  did  in  momentary  expectation  of  no  covering  at 
all.  The  rarest,  most  valuable  of  homes  meant  to  me  some- 
thing that  could  not  blow  away.  Those  women  who  take 
refuge  in  these  days  in  their  cyclone  cellar — now  the  popular 
architecture  of  the  West — will  know  well  how  comforting  it 
is  to  possess  something  that  cannot  be  readily  lifted  up  and 
deposited  in  a  neighboring  county. 

With  the  approach  of  midnight,  there  was  again  an  abate- 
ment in  the  rain,  and  the  water  of  the  stream  ceased  to  creep 
toward  us;  so  the  officers,  gaining  some  confidence  in  its 
final  subsidence,  again  left  us  to  go  to  their  tents.  For  three 
days  the  clouds  and  thunder  threatened,  but  at  last  the  sun 
appeared.  In  a  letter  to  my  husband,  dated  June  9,  1867,  I 
wrote:  "  When  the  sun  came  out  yesterday,  we  could  almost 
have  worshipped  it,  like  the  heathen.  We  have  had  some 


A   FLOOD  AT  FORT   HAYS.  3/1 

dreadful  days,  and  had  not  all  the  officers  been  so  kind  to  us, 
I  do  not  know  how  we  could  have  endured  what  we  have. 
Even  some  whom  we  do  not  know  have  shown  the  greatest 
solicitude  in  our  behalf.  We  are  drenching  wet  still,  and 
everything  we  have  is  soggy  with  moisture.  Last  evening, 
after  two  sleepless  nights,  Mrs.  Gibbs  and  her  two  boys, 
Alphie  and  Blair,  Diana  and  I,  were  driven  across  the  plain, 
from  which  the  water  is  fast  disappearing,  to  the  coveted 
divide  beyond.  It  is  not  much  higher,  as  you  know,  than 
the  spot  where  our  tents  are;  but  it  looked  like  a  mountain, 
as  we  watched  it,  while  the  water  rose  all  around  us.  Some 
of  the  officers  had  tents  pitched  there,  and  we  women  were 
given  the  Sibley  tent  with  the  floor,  that  sheltered  me  in  the 
other  storm.  We  dropped  down  in  heaps,  we  were  so  ex- 
hausted for  want  of  sleep,  and  it  was  such  a  relief  to  know 
that  at  last  the  water  could  not  reach  us."  The  letter  (con- 
tinued from  day  to  day,  as  no  scouts  were  sent  out)  described 
the  moving  of  the  camp  to  more  secure  ground.  It  was  in- 
cessant motion,  for  no  place  was  wholly  satisfactory  to  the 
officers.  I  confessed  that  I  was  a  good  deal  unnerved  by  the 
frights,  that  every  sound  startled  me,  and  a  shout  from  a 
soldier  stopped  my  breathing  almost,  so  afraid  was  I  that  it 
was  the  alarm  of  another  freshet — while  the  clouds  were  never 
more  closely  watched  than  at  that  time. 

A  fresh  trouble  awaited  me,  for  General  Hancock  came  to 
camp  from  Marker,  and  brought  bad  news.  The  letter  con- 
tinues: "  The  dangers  and  terrors  of  the  last  few  days  are 
nothing,  compared  with  the  information  that  General  Han- 
cock brings.  It  came  near  being  the  last  proverbial  'straw.' 
I  was  heart-sick,  indeed,  when  I  found  that  our  schemes  for 
being  together  soon  were  so  ruthlessly  crushed.  General 
Hancock  says  that  it  looks  as  if  you  would  be  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  the  Platte  for  several  months — at  which  he  is  justly 
indignant — but  he  is  promised  your  return  before  the  summer 
is  ended.  He  thinks,  that  if  I  want  to  go  so  badly,  I  may 
manage  to  make  you  a  flying  visit  up  there;  and  this  is  all 
that  keeps  me  up.  The  summer  here,  so  far  separated  from 


372  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

you,  seems  to  stretch  out  like  an  arid  desert.  If  there  were 
the  faintest  shadow  of  a  chance  that  I  would  see  you  here 
again,  I  would  not  go,  as  we  are  ordered  to.  I  will  come 
back  here  again  if  I  think  there  is  the  faintest  prospect  of 
seeing  you.  If  you  say  so,  I  will  goto  Fort  McPherson  on 
the  cars,  if  I  get  the  ghost  of  an  opportunity." 

Eliza,  in  ending  her  recollections  of  the  flood  at  Fort  Hays, 
says,  "  Well,  Miss  Libbie,  when  the  water  rose  so,  and  the 
men  was  a-drownin',  I  said  to  myself  in  the  night,  if  God 
spared  me,  that  would  be  the  last  of  war  for  me ;  but  when 
the  waters  went  down  and  the  sun  came  out,  then  we  began 
to  cheer  each  other  up,  and  were  willing  to  go  right  on  from 
there,  if  we  could,  for  we  wanted  to  see  the  Ginnel  so  bad. 
But  who  would  have  thought  that  the  stream  would  have 
risen  around  the  little  knoll  as  it  did  ?  The  Ginnel  thought 
he  had  fixed  us  so  nice,  and  he  had,  Miss  Libbie,  for  it  was 
the  knoll  that  saved  us.  The  day  the  regiment  left  for  Fort 
McPherson  the  Ginnel  staid  behind  till  dark,  gettin'  every- 
thin'  in  order  to  make  you  comfortable,  and  he  left  at  12 
o'clock  at  night,  with  his  escort,  to  join  the  troops.  He'd 
rather  ride  ride  all  night  than  miss  that  much  of  his  visit 
with  you.  Before  he  went,  he  came  to  my  tent  to  say  good- 
by.  I  stuck  my  hand  out,  and  said,  '  Ginnel,  I  don't  like  to 
see  you  goin'  off  in  this  wild  country,  at  this  hour  of  the 
night.'  .  .  .  '  I  have  to  go,'  he  says,  '  wherever  I'm  called. 
Take  care  of  Libbie,  Eliza,' and  puttin' spurs  to  his  horse, 
off  he  rode.  Then  I  thought  they'd  certainly  get  him,  ridin' 
right  into  the  mouth  of  'em.  You  know  how  plain  the  sound 
comes  over  the  prairie,  with  nothin',  no  trees  or  anythin',  to 
interfere.  Well,  in  the  night  I  was  hearin'  quare  sounds. 
Some  might  have  said  they  was  buffalo,  but  on  thy  went, 
lumpety  lump,  lumpety  lump,  and  they  was  Indians  !  Miss 
Libbie,  sure  as  you're  born,  they  was  Indians  gettin'  out  of 
the  way,  and,  oh  !  I  was  so  scart  for  the  Ginnel." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ORDERED   BACK   TO   FORT   MARKER. 

AFTER  the  high-water  experience,  our  things  were  scarcely 
dry  before  I  found,  for  the  second  time,  what  it  was  to  be 
under  the  complete  subjection  of  military  rule.  The  fiat  was 
issued  that  we  women  must  depart  from  camp  and  return  to 
garrison,  as  it  was  considered  unsafe  for  us  to  remain.  It 
was  an  intense  disappointment;  for  though  Fort  Hays  and 
our  camp  were  more  than  dreary  after  the  ravages  of  the 
storm,  to  leave  there  meant  cutting  myself  off  from  any  other 
chance  that  might  come  in  my  way  of  joining  my  husband, 
or  of  seeing  him  at  our  camp.  Two  of  the  officers  and  an 
escort  of  ten  mounted  men,  going  to  Fort  Harker  on  duty, 
accompanied  our  little  cortege  of  departing  women.  At  the 
first  stage-station  the  soldiers  all  dismounted  as  we  halted, 
and  managed  by  some  pretext  to  get  into  the  dug-out  and 
buy  whiskey.  Not  long  after  we  were  again  en  route  I  saw 
one  of  the  men  reel  on  his  saddle,  and  he  was  lifted  into  the 
wagon  that  carried  forage  for  the  mules  and  horses.  One  by 
one,  all  were  finally  dumped  into  the  wagons  by  the  team- 
sters, who  fortunately  were  sober,  and  the  troopers'  horses 
were  tied  behind  the  vehicles,  and  we  found  ourselves  with- 
out an  escort.  Plains  whiskey  is  usually  very  rapid  in  its 
effect,  but  the  stage-station  liquor  was  concocted  from  drugs 
that  had  power  to  lay  out  even  a  hard-drinking  old  cavalry- 
man like  a  dead  person  in  what  seemed  no  time  at  all. 
Eliza  said  "  they  only  needed  to  smell  it,  'twas  so  deadly 
poison."  A  barrel  of  tolerably  good  whiskey  sent  from  the 
States  was,  by  the  addition  of  drugs,  made  into  several  bar- 
rels after  it  reached  the  Plains. 

373 


374  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

The  hours  of  that  march  seemed  endless.  We  were  help- 
less, and  knew  that  we  were  going  over  ground  that  was  hotly 
contested  by  the  red  man.  We  rose  gradually  to  the  summit 
of  each  divide,  and  looked  with  anxious  eyes  into  every  de- 
pression; but  we  were  no  sooner  relieved  to  find  it  safe,  than 
my  terrors  began  as  to  what  the  next  might  reveal.  When 
we  came  upon  an  occasional  ravine,  it  represented  to  my 
frightened  soul  any  number  of  Indians  in  ambush. 

In  that  country  the  air  is  so  clear  that  every  object  on  the 
brow  of  a  small  ascent  of  ground  is  silhouetted  against  the 
deep  blue  of  the  sky.  The  Indians  place  little  heaps  of  stones 
on  these  slight  eminences,  and  lurk  behind  them  to  watch 
the  approach  of  troops.  Every  little  pile  of  rocks  seemed, 
to  my  strained  eyes,  to  hide  the  head  of  a  savage.  They 
even  appeared  to  move,  and  this  effect  was  heightened  by 
the  waves  of  heat  that  hover  over  the  surface  of  the  earth 
under  that  blazing  sun.  I  was  thoroughly  frightened,  doubt- 
less made  much  more  so  because  I  had  nothing  else  to  think 
of,  as  the  end  of  the  journey  would  not  mean  for  me  what 
the  termination  of  ever  so  dangerous  a  march  would  have 
been  in  the  other  direction.  Had  I  been  going  over  such 
country  to  join  my  husband,  the  prospect  would  have  put 
temporary  courage  into  every  nerve.  During  the  hours  of 
daylight  the  vigilance  of  the  officers  was  unceasing.  They 
knew  that  one  of  the  most  hazardous  days  of  their  lives  was 
upon  them.  They  felt  intensely  the  responsibility  of  the  care 
of  us;  and  I  do  not  doubt,  gallant  as  they  were,  that  they 
mentally  pronounced  anathemas  upon  officers  who  had  want- 
ed to  see  their  wives  so  badly  that  they  had  let  them  come 
into  such  a  country.  When  we  had  first  gone  over  the  route, 
however,  its  danger  was  not  a  circumstance  to  this  time.  Our 
eyes  rarely  left  the  horizon;  they  were  strained  to  discern 
signs  that  had  come  to  be  familiar,  even  by  our  hearing  them 
discussed  so  constantly;  and  we,  still  novices  in  the  experi- 
ence of  that  strange  country,  had  seen  for  ourselves  enough 
to  prove  that  no  vigilance  was  too  great.  If  on  the  monoto- 
nous landscape  a  whirl  of  dust  arose,  instantly  it  was  a  mat- 


ORDERED   BACK   TO   FORT    IIARKER.  3/5 

ter  of  doubt  whether  it  meant  our  foe  or  one  of  the  strange 
eccentricities  of  that  part  of  the  world.  The  most  peculiar 
communions  are  those  that  the  clouds  seem  to  have  with  the 
earth,  which  result  in  a  cone  of  dust  whirlpooling  itself 
straight  in  the  air,  while  the  rest  of  the  earth  is  apparently 
without  commotion,  bearing  no  relation  to  the  funnel  that 
seems  to  struggle  upward  and  be  dissolved  into  the  passing 
wind.  With  what  intense  concentration  we  watched  to  see 
it  so  disappear  !  If  the  puff  of  dust  continued  to  spread,  the 
light  touching  it  into  a  deeper  yellow,  and  finally  revealing 
some  darker  shades,  and  at  last  shaping  itself  into  dusky 
forms,  we  were  in  agony  of  suspense  until  the  field-glasses 
proved  that  it  was  a  herd  of  antelopes  fleeing  from  our  ap- 
proach. There  literally  seemed  to  be  not  one  inch  of  the 
way  that  the  watchful  eyes  of  the  officers,  the  drivers,  or  we 
women  were  not  strained  to  discover  eveiy  object  that  speck- 
ed the  horizon  or  rose  on  the  trail  in  front  of  us. 

With  all  the  terror  and  suspense  of  those  dragging  miles, 
I  could  not  be  insensible  to  the  superb  and  riotous  colors  of 
the  wild  flowers  that  carpeted  our  way.  It  was  the  first  time 
that  I  had  ever  been  where  the  men  could  not  be  asked,  and 
were  not  willing,  to  halt  or  let  me  stop  and  gather  one  of 
every  kind.  The  gorgeousness  of  the  reds  and  orange  of 
those  prairie  blossoms  was  a  surprise  to  me.  I  had  not 
dreamed  that  the  earth  could  so  glow  with  rich  tints.  The 
spring  rains  had  soaked  the  ground  long  enough  to  start 
into  life  the  wonderful  dyes  that  for  a  brief  time  emblazon 
the  barren  wilderness.  The  royal  livery  floats  but  a  short 
period  over  their  temporary  domain,  for  the  entire  cessation 
of  even  the  night  dews,  and  the  intensity  of  the  scorching 
sun,  shrivels  the  vivid,  flaunting,  feathery  petals,  and  burns 
the  venturesome  roots  down  into  the  earth.  What  presum- 
ing things,  to  toss  their  pennants  over  so  inhospitable  aland  ! 
But  what  a  boon  to  travelers  like  ourselves  to  see,  for  even 
the  brief  season,  some  tint  besides  the  burnt  umber  and  yel- 
low ochre  of  those  plains!  All  the  short  existence  of  these 
flowers  is  condensed  into  the  color,  tropical  in  richness;  not 


3/6  TENTING  ON   THE   PLAINS. 

one  faint  waft  of  perfume  floated  on  the  air  about  us.  But  it 
was  all  we  ought  to  have  asked,  that  their  brilliant  heads  ap- 
pear out  of  such  soil.  This  has  served  to  make  me  very  ap- 
preciative of  the  rich  exhalation  of  the  Eastern  gardens.  I 
do  not  dare  say  what  the  first  perfume  of  the  honeysuckle  is 
to  me,  each  year  now;  nor  would  I  infringe  upon  the  few 
adjectives  vouchsafed  the  use  of  a  conventional  Eastern 
woman  when,  as  it  happened  this  year,  the  orange  blossoms, 
white  jessamine  and  woodbine  wafted  their  sweet  breaths  in 
my  face  as  a  welcome  from  one  garden  to  which  good  for- 
tune led  me.  I  remember  the  starvation  days  of  that  odor- 
less life,  when,  seeing  rare  colors,  we  instantly  expected  rich 
odors,  but  found  them  not,  and  I  try  to  adapt  myself  to  the 
customs  of  the  country,  and  not  rave,  but,  like  the  children, 
keep  up  a  mighty  thinking. 

Buffalo,  antelope,  blacktail  deer,  coyote,  jack-rabbits, 
scurried  out  of  our  way  on  that  march,  and  we  could  not 
stop  to  follow.  I  was  looking  always  for  some  new  sight, 
and,  after  the  relief  that  I  felt  when  each  object  as  we  neared 
it  turned  out  to  be  harmless,  was  anxious  to  see  a  drove  of 
wild  horses.  There  were  still  herds  to  be  found  between  the 
Cimmaron  and  the  Arkansas  rivers.  The  General  told  me 
of  seeing  one  of  the  herds  on  a  march,  spoke  with  great  ad- 
miration and  enthusiasm  of  the  leader,  and  described  him  as 
splendid  in  carriage,  and  bearing  his  head  in  the  proudest, 
loftiest  manner  as  he  led  his  followers.  They  were  not  large; 
they  must  have  been  the  Spanish  pony  of  Cortez'  time,  as 
we  know  that  the  horse  is  not  indigenous  to  America.  The 
flowing  mane  and  tail,  the  splendid  arch  of  the  neck,  and  the 
proud  head  carried  so  loftily,  give  the  wild  horses  a  larger, 
taller  appearance  than  is  in  reality  theirs.  Few  ever  saw  the 
droves  of  wild  horses  more  than  momentarily.  They  run 
like  the  wind. 

After  the  introduction  of  the  dromedary  into  Texas,  many 
years  since,  for  transportation  of  supplies  over  that  vast  ter- 
ritory, one  was  brought  up  to  Colorado.  Because  of  the  im- 
mense runs  it  could  make  without  water,  it  was  taken  into 


377 


3/8  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

the  region  frequented  by  the  wild  horses,  and  when  they 
were  sighted,  the  dromedary  was  started  in  pursuit.  Two 
were  run  down,  and  found  to  be  nearly  dead  when  overtaken. 
But  the  poor  dromedary  suffered  so  from  the  prickly-pear 
filling  the  soft  ball  of  its  feet,  that  no  farther  pursuit  could 
ever  be  undertaken. 

I  had  to  be  content  with  the  General's  description,  for  no 
wild  horses  came  in  our  way.  But  there  was  enough  to 
satisfy  any  one  in  the  way  of  game.  The  railroad  had  not 
then  driven  to  the  right  and  left  the  inhabitants  of  that  vast 
prairie.  Our  country  will  never  again  see  the  Plains  dotted 
with  game  of  all  sorts.  The  railroad  stretches  its  iron  bands 
over  these  desert  wastes,  and  scarcely  a  skulking  coyote, 
hugging  the  ground  and  stealing  into  gulches,  can  be  discov- 
ered during  a  whole  day's  journey. 

As  the  long  afternoon  was  waning,  we  were  allowed  to  get 
out  and  rest  a  little  while,  for  we  had  reached  what  was  called 
the  "  Home  Station,"  so  called  because  at  this  place  there  was 
a  woman,  then  the  only  one  along  the  entire  route.  I  looked 
with  more  admiration  than  I  could  express  on  this  fearless 
creature,  long  past  the  venturesome  time  of  early  youth, 
when  some  dare  much  for  excitement.  She  was  as  calm  and 
collected  as  her  husband,  whom  she  valued  enough  to  en- 
dure with  him  this  terrible  existence.  How  good  the  things 
tasted  that  she  cooked,  and  how  different  the  dooryard  look- 
ed from  those  of  the  other  stations!  Then  she  had  a  baby 
antelope,  and  the  apertures  that  served  as  windows  had  bits 
of  white  curtains,  and,  altogether,  I  did  not  wonder  that 
over  the  hundreds  of  miles  of  stage-route  the  Home  Station 
was  a  place  the  men  looked  forward  to  as  the  only  reminder 
of  the  civilization  that  a  good  woman  establishes  about  her. 
There  was  an  awful  sight,  though,  that  riveted  my  eyes  as 
we  prepared  to  go  on  our  journey,  and  the  officers  could  not, 
by  any  subterfuge,  save  us  from  seeing  it.  It  was  a  disabled 
stage-coach,  literally  riddled  with  bullets,  its  leather  hang- 
ing in  shreds,  and  the  woodwork  cut  into  splinters.  When 
there  was  no  further  use  of  trying  to  conceal  it  from  us,  we 


ORDERED   BACK  TO   FORT   HARKER.          379 

were  told  that  this  stage  had  come  into  the  station  in  that 
condition  the  day  before,  and  the  fight  that  the  driver  and 
mail-carrier  had  been  through  was  desperate.  There  was  no 
getting  the  sight  of  that  vehicle  out  of  my  mind  during  the 
rest  of  the  journey.  What  a  friend  the  darkness  seemed,  as 
it  wrapped  its  protecting  mantle  about  us,  after  the  long 
twilight  ended!  yet  it  was  almost  impossible  to  sleep,  though 
we  knew  we  were  comparatively  safe  till  dawn.  At  daybreak 
the  officers  asked  us  to  get  out,  while  the  mules  were  watered 
and  fed,  and  rest  ourselves,  and  though  I  had  been  so  long 
riding  in  a  cramped  position,  I  would  gladly  have  declined. 
Cleanliness  is  next  to  godliness,  and,  one  of  our  friends  said, 
"  With  a  woman,  it  is  before  godliness,"  yet  that  was  an  oc- 
casion when  I  would  infinitely  have  preferred  to  be  number- 
ed with  the  great  unwashed.  However,  a  place  in  the  little 
stream  at  the  foot  of  the  gully  was  pointed  out,  and  we  took 
our  tin  basin  and  towel  and  freshened  ourselves  by  this  early 
toilet;  but  there  was  no  lingering  to  prink,  even  on  the  part 
of  the  pretty  Diana.  Our  eyes  were  staring  on  all  sides,  with 
a  dread  impossible  to  quell,  and  back  into  the  ambulance  we 
climbed,  not  breathing  a  long,  free  breath  until  the  last  of 
those  terrible  eighty  miles  were  passed,  and  we  beheld  with 
untold  gratitude  the  roofs  of  the  quarters  at  Fort  Harker. 

I  felt  that  we  had  trespassed  as  much  as  we  ought  upon  the 
hospitality  of  the  commanding  officer  of  the  post,  and  beg- 
ged to  be  allowed  to  sleep  in  our  ambulance  while  we  remained 
in  the  garrison.  He  consented,  under  protest,  and  our  wagon 
and  that  of  Mrs.  Gibbs  were  placed  in  the  space  between  two 
Government  storehouses,  and  a  tarpaulin  was  stretched  over 
the  two.  Eliza  prepared  our  simple  food  over  a  little  camp- 
fire.  While  the  weather  remained  good,  this  was  a  very  com- 
fortable camp  for  us — but  when,  in  Kansas,  do  the  elements 
continue  quiet  for  twenty-four  hours?  In  the  darkest  hour 
of  the  blackest  kind  of  night  the  wind  rose  into  a  tempest, 
rushing  around  the  corners  of  the  buildings,  hunting  out  with 
pertinacity,  from  front  and  rear,  our  poor  little  temporary 
home.  The  tarpaulin  was  lifted  on  high,  and  with  ropes  and 


380  TENTING  ON  THE  PLAINS. 

picket-pins  thrashing  on  the  canvas  it  finally  broke  its  last 
moorings  and  soared  off  into  space.  The  rain  beat  in  the 
curtains  of  the  ambulance  and  soaked  our  blankets.  Still, 
we  crept  together  on  the  farther  side  of  our  narrow  bed  and, 
rolled  up  in  our  shawls,  tried  to  hide  our  eyes  from  the  light- 
ning, and  our  ears  from  the  roar  of  the  storm  as  it  swept  be- 
tween the  sheltering  buildings  and  made  us  feel  as  if  we  were 
camping  in  a  tunnel. 

Our  neighbor's  dog  joined  his  voice  with  the  sobs  and 
groans  of  the  wind,  while  in  the  short  intervals  of  quiet  we 
called  out,  trying  to  get  momentary  courage  from  speech  with 
each  other.  The  curtain  at  the  end  of  the  ambulance  jerked 
itself  free,  and  in  came  a  deluge  of  rain  from  a  new  direction. 
Pins,  strings  and  four  weak  hands  holding  their  best,  did  no 
earthly  good,  and  I  longed  to  break  all  military  rule  and 
scream  to  the  sentinel.  Not  to  speak  to  a  guard  on  post  is 
one  of  the  early  lessons  instilled  into  every  one  in  military 
life.  It  required  such  terror  of  the  storm  and  just  such  a 
drenching  as  we  were  getting,  even  to  harbor  a  thought  of 
this  direct  disobedience  of  orders.  Clutching  the  wagon- 
curtains  and  watching  the  soldier,  who  was  revealed  by  the 
frequent  flashes  of  lightning  as  he  tramped  his  solitary  way, 
might  have  gone  on  for  some  time  without  the  necessary 
courage  coming  to  call  him,  but  a  new  departure  of  the  wind 
suddenly  set  us  in  motion,  and  I  found  that  we  were  spinning 
down  the  little  declivity  back  of  us,  with  no  knowledge  of 
when  or  where  we  would  stop.  Then  I  did  scream,  and  the 
peculiar  shrillness  of  a  terrified  woman's  voice  reached  the 
sentinel.  Blessed  breaker  of  his  country's  laws  !  He  an- 
swered to  a  higher  one,  which  forbids  him  to  neglect  a  wo- 
man in  danger,  and  left  his  beat  to  run  to  our  succor. 

Our  wagon  was  dragged  back  by  some  of  the  soldiers  on 
night  duty  at  the  guard-house,  and  was  newly  pinioned  to  the 
earth  with  stronger  picket-pins  and  ropes,  but  sleep  was 
murdered  for  that  night.  Of  course  the  guard  reported  to 
the  commanding  officer,  as  is  their  rule,  and  soon  a  lantern 
or  two  came  zigzagging  over  the  parade-ground  in  our  direc- 


ORDERED   BACK   TO   FORT   MARKER.  381 

tion,  and  the  officers  called  to  know  if  they  could  speak  with 
us.  There  was  no  use  in  arguing.  Mrs.  Gibbs  and  her  boys, 
Diana  drenched  and  limp  as  to  clothes,  and  I  decidedly  moist, 
were  fished  out  of  our  watery  camp-beds,  and  with  our  arms 
full  of  apparel  and  satchels,  we  followed  the  officers  in  the 
dark  to  the  dry  quarters,  that  we  had  tried  our  best  to  decline 
rather  than  make  trouble. 

It  was  decided  that  we  must  proceed  to  Fort  Riley,  as  there 
were  no  quarters  to  offer  us  ;  and  tent-life,  as  I  have  tried  to 
describe  it,  had  its  drawbacks  in  the  rainy  season.  Had  it 
not  meant  for  me  ninety  miles  farther  separation  from  my 
husband,  seemingly  cut  off  from  all  chance  of  joining  him 
again,  I  would  have  welcomed  the  plan  of  going  back,  as  Fort 
Harker  was  at  this  time  the  most  absolutely  dismal  and  mel- 
ancholy spot  I  remember  ever  to  have  seen.  A  terrible  and 
unprecedented  calamity  had  fallen  upon  the  usually  healthful 
place,  for  cholera  had  broken  out,  and  the  soldiers  were  dy- 
ing by  platoons.  I  had  been  accustomed  to  think,  in  all  the 
vicissitudes  that  had  crowded  themselves  into  these  few 
months,  whatever  else  we  were  deprived  of,  we  at  least  had  a 
climate  unsurpassed  for  salubrity,  and  I  still  think  so.  For 
some  strange  reason,  right  out  in  the  midst  of  that  wide, 
open  plain,  with  no  stagnant  water,  no  imperfect  drainage, 
no  earthly  reason,  it  seemed  to  us,  this  epidemic  had  sud- 
denly appeared,  and  in  a  form  so  violent  that  a  few  hours  of 
suffering  ended  fatally.  Nobody  took  dying  into  considera- 
tion out  there  in  those  days  ;  all  were  well  and  able-bodied, 
and  almost  everyone  was  young  who  ventured  into  that  new 
country,  so  no  lumber  had  been  provided  to  make  coffins. 
For  a  time  the  rudest  receptacles  were  hammered  together, 
made  out  of  the  hardtack  boxes.  Almost  immediate  burial 
took  place,  as  there  was  no  ice,  nor  even  a  safe  place  to  keep 
the  bodies  of  the  unfortunate  victims.  It  was  absolutely  nec- 
essary, but  an  awful  thought  neverthelesss,  this  scurrying 
under  the  ground  of  the  lately  dead,  perhaps  only  wrapped 
in  a  coarse  gray  army  blanket,  and  with  the  burial  service 
hurriedly  read,  for  all  were  needed  as  nurses,  and  time  was 


382  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

too  precious  to  say  even  the  last  words,  except  in  haste.  The 
officers  and  their  families  did  not  escape,  and  sorrow  fell 
upon  every  one  when  an  attractive  young  woman  who  had 
dared  everything  in  the  way  of  hardships  to  follow  her  hus- 
band, was  marked  by  that  terrible  finger  which  bade  her  go 
alone  into  the  valley  of  death.  In  the  midst  of  this  scourge, 
the  Sisters  of  Charity  came.  Two  of  them  died,  and  after- 
ward a  priest,  but  they  were  replaced  by  others,  who  remained 
until  the  pestilence  had  wrought  its  worst ;  then  they  gath- 
ered the  orphaned  children  of  the  soldiers  together,  and  re- 
turned with  them  to  the  parent  house  of  their  Order  in 
Leavenworth. 

I  would  gladly  have  these  memories  fade  out  of  my  life, 
for  the  scenes  at  that  post  have  no  ray  of  light  except  the 
heroic  conduct  of  the  men  and  women  who  stood  their 
ground  through  the  danger.  I  cannot  pass  by  those  memo- 
rable days  in  the  early  history  of  Kansas  without  my  tribute 
to  the  brave  officers  and  men  who  went  through  so  much  to 
open  the  way  for  settlers.  I  lately  rode  through  the  State, 
which  seemed  when  I  first  saw  it  a  hopeless,  barren  waste, 
and  found  the  land  under  fine  cultivation,  the  houses,  barns 
and  fences  excellently  built,  cattle  in  the  meadows,  and, 
sometimes,  several  teams  ploughing  in  one  field.  I  could  not 
help  wondering  what  the  rich  owners  of  these  estates  would 
say,  if  I  should  step  down  from  the  car  and  give  them  a  little 
picture  of  Kansas,  with  the  hot,  blistered  earth,  dry  beds  of 
streams,  and  soil  apparently  so  barren  that  not  even  the  wild- 
flowers  would  bloom,  save  for  a  brief  period  after  the  spring 
rains.  Then  add  pestilence,  Indians,  and  an  undisciplined, 
mutinous  soldiery  who  composed  our  first  recruits,  and  it 
seems  strange  that  our  officers  persevered  at  all.  I  hope  the 
prosperous  ranchman  will  give  them  one  word  of  thanks  as 
he  advances  to  greater  wealth,  since  but  for  our  brave  fellows 
the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad  could  not  have  been  built ;  nor 
could  the  early  settlers,"  daring  as  they  were,  have  sowed  the 
seed  that  now  yields  them  such  rich  harvests. 

We  had  no  choice  about  leaving  Fort  Harker.     There  was 


ORDERED   BACK   TO   FORT   MARKER.  383 

no  accommodation  for  us — indeed  we  would  have  hampered 
the  already  overworked  officers  and  men  ;  so  we  took  our  de- 
parture for  Fort  Riley.  There  we  found  perfect  quiet ;  the 
negro  troops  were  reduced  to  discipline,  and  everything  went 
on  as  if  there  were  no  such  thing  as  the  dead  and  the  dying 
that  we  had  left  a  few  hours  before.  There  was  but  a  small 
garrison,  and  we  easily  found  empty  quarters,  that  were  lent 
to  us  by  the  commanding  officer. 

Then  the  life  of  watching  and  waiting,  and  trying  to  possess 
my  soul  in  patience,  began  again,  and  my  whole  day  resolved 
itself  into  a  mental  protest  against  the  slowness  of  the  hours 
before  the  morning  mail  could  be  received.  It  was  a  doleful 
time  for  us  ;  but  I  remember  no  uttered  complaints  as  such, 
for  we  silently  agreed  they  would  weaken  our  courage.  If 
tears  were  shed,  they  fell  on  the  pillow,  where  the  blessed 
darkness  came  to  absolve  us  from  the  rigid  watchfulness  that 
we  tried  to  keep  over  our  feelings.  My  husband  gladdened 
many  a  dark  day  by  the  cheeriest  letters.  How  he  ever  man- 
aged to  write  so  buoyantly  was  a  mystery  when  I  found 
afterward  what  he  was  enduring.  I  rarely  had  a  letter  with 
even  so  much  as  a  vein  of  discontent,  during  all  our  separa- 
tions. At  that  time  came  two  that  were  strangely  in  contrast 
to  all  the  brave,  encouraging  missives  that  had  cheered  my 
day.  The  accounts  of  cholera  met  our  regiment  on  their 
march  into  the  Department  of  the  Platte  ;  and  the  General, 
in  the  midst  of  intense  anxiety,  with  no  prospect  of  direct 
communication,  assailed  by  false  reports  of  my  illness,  at  last 
showed  a  side  of  his  character  that  was  seldom  visible.  His 
suspense  regarding  my  exposure  to  pestilence,  and  his  dis- 
tress over  the  fright  and  danger  I  had  endured  at  the  time 
of  the  flood  at  Fort  Hays,  made  his  brave  spirit  quail, 
and  there  were  desperate  words  written,  which,  had  he  not 
been  relieved  by  news  of  my  safety,  would  have  ended  in  his 
taking  steps  to  resign.  Even  he,  whom  I  scarcely  ever  knew 
to  yield  to  discouraging  circumstances,  wrote  that  he  could 
not  and  would  not  endure  such  a  life. 

Our  days  at  Fort  Riley  had  absolutely  nothing  to  vary  them 


384  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

after  mail  time.  I  sat  on  the  gallery  long  before  the  time  of 
distribution,  pretending  to  sew  or  read,  but  watching  con- 
stantly for  the  door  of  the  office  to  yield  up  next  to  the  most 
important  man  in  the  wide  world  to  me.  The  soldier  whose 
duty  it  was  to  bring  the  mail  became  so  inflated  by  the  eager- 
ness with  which  his  steps  were  watched,  that  it  came  near 
being  the  death  of  him  when  he  joined  his  company  in  the 
autumn,  and  was  lost  in  its  monotonous  ranks.  He  was  a 
ponderous,  lumbering  fellow  in  body  and  mind,  who  had 
been  left  behind  by  his  captain,  ostensibly  to  take  care  of  the 
company  property,  but  I  soon  found  there  was  another  rea- 
son, as  his  wits  had  for  some  time  been  unsettled,  that  is — 
giving  him  the  benefit  of  a  doubt — if  he  ever  had  any. 
Addled  as  his  brain  might  be,  the  remnant  of  intelligence 
was  ample  in  my  eyes  if  it  enabled  him  to  make  his  way  to 
our  door.  As  he  belonged  to  the  Seventh  Cavalry,  he  con- 
sidered that  everything  at  the  post  must  be  subservient  to  my 
wish,  when  in  reality  I  was  dependent  for  a  temporary  roof 
on  the  courtesy  of  the  infantry  officer  in  command.  If  I  even 
met  him  in  our  walks,  he  seemed  to  swell  to  twice  his  size, 
and  to  feel  that  some  of  the  odor  of  sanctity  hung  around 
him,  whether  he  bore  messages  from  the  absent  or  not. 

The  contents  of  the  mail-bag  being  divided,  over  six  feet 
of  anatomical  and  military  perfection  came  stalking  through 
the  parade-ground.  He  would  not  demean  himself  to  hasten, 
and  his  measured  steps  were  in  accordance  with  the  gait  pre- 
scribed in  the  past  by  his  sergeant  on  drill.  He  appeared  to 
throw  his  head  back  more  loftily  as  he  perceived  that  my 
eyes  followed  his  creeping  steps.  He  seemed  to  be  reason- 
ing. Did  Napoleon  ever  run,  the  Duke  of  Wellington  ever 
hasten,  or  General  Scott  quicken  his  gait  or  impair  his 
breathing  by  undue  activity,  simply  because  an  unreasoning, 
impatient  woman  was  waiting  somewhere  for  them  to  ap- 
pear? It  was  not  at  all  in  accordance  with  his  ideas  of  martial 
character  to  exhibit  indecorous  speed.  The  great  and  respon- 
sible office  of  conveying  the  letters  from  the  officer  to  the  quar- 
ters had  been  assigned  to  him,  and  nothing,  he  determined, 


THE   ADDLED    LETTER-CARRIER. 
385 


386  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

should  interfere  with  its  being  filled  with  dignity.  His  coun- 
try looked  to  him  as  its  savior.  Only  a  casual  and  condescend- 
ing thought  was  given  to  his  comrades,  who  perhaps  at  that 
time  were  receiving  in  their  bodies  the  arrows  of  Indian  war- 
riors. No  matter  how  eagerly  I  eyed  the  great  official  envel- 
ope in  his  hand,  which  1  knew  well  was  mine,  he  persisted 
in  observing  all  the  form  and  ceremony  that  he  had  decided 
was  suitable  for  its  presentation.  He  was  especially  particu- 
lar to  assume  the  "  first  position  of  a  soldier,"  as  he  drew  up 
in  front  of  me.  The  tone  with  which  he  addressed  me  was 
deliberate  and  grandiloquent.  The  only  variation  in  his  regu- 
lation manners  was  that  he  allowed  himself  to  speak  before 
he  was  spoken  to.  With  the  flourish  of  his  colossal  arm,  in 
a  salute  that  took  in  a  wide  semicircle  of  Kansas  air,  he  said, 
"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Major-General  George  Armstrong 
Custer."  He  was  the  only  gleam  of  fun  we  had  in  those  dis- 
mal days.  He  was  a  marked  contrast  to  the  disciplined  en- 
listed man,  who  never  speaks  unless  first  addressed  by  his 
superiors,  and  who  is  modesty  itself  in  demeanor  and  lan- 
guage in  the  presence  of  the  officers'  wives.  The  farewell 
salute  of  our  mail-carrier  was  funnier  than  his  approach.  He 
wheeled  on  his  military  heel,  and  swung  wide  his  flourishing 
arm,  but  the  "right  about  face"  I  generally  lost,  for,  after 
snatching  my  envelope  from  him,  unawed  by  his  formality,  I 
fled  into  the  house  to  hide,  while  I  laughed  and  cried  over 
the  contents. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE   FIRST   FIGHT   OF  THE   SEVENTH   CAVALRY. 

THE  first  fight  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  at  Fort  Wallace. 
In  June,  1867,  a  band  of  three  hundred  Cheyennes,  under 
Roman  Nose,  attacked  the  stage-station  near  that  fort,  and 
ran  off  the  stock.  Elated  with  this  success,  they  proceeded 
to  Fort  Wallace,  that  poor  little  group  of  log  huts  and  mud 
cabins  having  apparently  no  power  of  resistance.  Only  the 
simplest  devices  could  be  resorted  to  for  defense.  The  com- 
missary stores  and  ammunition  were  partly  protected  by  a 
low  wall  of  gunny-sacks  filled  with  sand.  There  were  no  logs 
near  enough,  and  no  time  if  there  had  been,  to  build  a  stock- 
ade. But  our  splendid  cavalry  charged  out  as  boldly  as  if  they 
were  leaving  behind  them  reserve  troops  and  a  battery  of  ar- 
tillery. They  were  met  by  a  counter-charge,  the  Indians, 
with  lances  poised  and  arrows  on  the  string,  coming  on  swiftly 
in  overwhelming  numbers.  It  was  a  hand-to-hand  fight.  Ro- 
man N"bse  was  about  to  throw  his  javelin  at  one  of  our  men, 
when  the  cavalryman,  with  his  left  hand,  gave  a  sabre-thrust 
equal  to  the  best  that  many  good  fencers  can  execute  with 
their  sword-arm.  With  his  Spencer  rifle  he  wounded  the 
chief,  and  saw  him  fall  forward  on  his  horse. 

The  post  had  been  so  short  of  men  that  a  dozen  negro 
soldiers,  who  had  come  with  their  wagon  from  an  outpost 
for  supplies,  were  placed  near  the  garrison  on  picket  duty. 
While  the  fight  was  going  on,  the  two  officers  in  command 
found  themselves  near  each  other  on  the  skirmish-line,  and 
observed  a  wagon  with  four  mules  tearing  out  to  the  line  of 
battle.  It  was  filled  with  negroes,  standing  up,  all  firing  in 
the  direction  of  the  Indians.  The  driver  lashed  the  mules 
with  his  black-snake,  and  roared  at  them  as  they  ran.  When 

387 


388  TENTING   ON   THE    PLAINS. 

the  skirmish-line  was  reached  the  colored  men  leaped  out 
and  began  firing  again.  No  one  had  ordered  them  to  leave 
their  picket-station,  but  they  were  determined  that  no  sol- 
diering should  be  carried  on  in  which  their  valor  was  not 
proved.  The  officers  saw  with  surprise  that  one  of  the  num- 
ber ran  off  by  himself  into  the  most  dangerous  place,  and 
one  of  them  remarked,  "There's  a  gone  nigger,  for  a  cer- 
tainty !  "  They  saw  him  fall,  throw  up  his  hands,  kick  his 
feet  in  the  air,  and  then  collapse — dead  to  all  appearances. 
After  the  fight  was  over,  and  the  Indians  had  withdrawn  to 
the  bluffs,  the  soldiers  were  called  together  and  ordered  back 
to  the  post.  At  that  moment  a  negro,  gun  in  hand,  walked 
up  from  where  the  one  supposed  to  be  slain  had  last  been 
seen.  It  was  the  dead  restored  to  life.  When  asked  by  the 
officer,  "  What  in  thunder  do  you  mean,  running  off  at  such 
a  distance  into  the  face  of  danger,  and  throwing  up  your  feet 
and  hands  as  if  shot?  "  he  replied,  "  Oh,  Lord,  Massa,  I  just 
did  dat  to  fool  'em.  I  fot  deyed  try  to  get  my  scalp,  thinkin' 
I  war  dead,  and  den  I'd  jest  get  one  of  'em." 

The  following  official  report,  sent  in  from  some  colored 
men  stationed  at  Wilson's  Creek,  who  were  attacked,  and 
successfully  drove  off  the  Indians,  will  give  further  proof  of 
their  good  service,  while  at  the  same  time  it  reveals- a  little 
of  other  sides  of  the  negro,  when  he  first  began  to  serve  Un- 
cle Sam: 

"  All  the  boys  done  bully,  but  Corporal  Johnson — he 
flinked.  The  way  he  flinked  was,  to  wait  till  the  boys  had 
drove  the  Injuns  two  miles,  and  then  he  hollered,  '  Gin  it  to 
'em  ! '  and  the  boys  don't  think  that  a  man  that  would  flink 
that  way  ought  to  have  corporal's  straps." 

In  order  to  give  this  effort  at  military  composition  its  full 
effect,  it  would  be  necessary  to  add  the  official  report  of  a 
cut  and-dried  soldier.  No  matter  how  trifling  the  duty,  the 
stilted  language,  bristling  with  technical  pomposity,  in  which 
every  military  move  is  reported,  makes  me,  a  non-combatant, 
question  if  the  white  man  is  not  about  as  absurd  in  his  way 
as  the  darkey  was  in  his. 


389 


3QO  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Poor  Fort  Wallace  !  In  another  attack  on  the  post,  where 
several  of  our  men  were  killed,'  there  chanced  to  be  some 
engineers  stopping  at  the  garrison,  en  route  to  New  Mexico, 
where  a  Government  survey  was  to  be  undertaken.  One  of 
them,  carrying  a  small  camera,  photographed  a  sergeant  ly- 
on  the  battle-ground  after  the  enemy  had  retreated.  The 
body  was  gashed  and  pierced  by  twenty-three  arrows.  Ev- 
erything combined  to  keep  that  little  garrison  in  a  state  of 
siege,  and  a  gloomy  pall  hung  over  the  beleaguered  spot. 

As  the  stage-stations  were  one  after  another  attacked, 
burned,  the  men  murdered  and  the  stock  driven  off  for  a  dis- 
tance of  three  hundred  miles,  the  difficulty  of  sending  mail 
became  almost  insurmountable.  Denver  lay  out  thereat  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  as  isolated  as  if  it  had  been  a  lone 
island  in  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Whenever  a  coach  went  out 
with  the  mail,  a  second  one  was  filled  with  soldiers  and  led 
the  advance.  The  Seventh  Cavalry  endeavored  to  fortify 
some  of  the  deserted  stage-stations;  but  the  only  means  of 
defense  consisted  in  burrowing  underground.  After  the 
holes  were  dug,  barely  large  enough  for  four  men  standing, 
and  a  barrel  of  water  and  a  week's  provision,  it  was  covered 
over  with  logs  and  turf,  leaving  an  aperture  for  firing.  Where 
the  men  had  warning,  they  could  "  stand  off  "  many  Indians, 
and  save  the  horses  in  another  dug-out  adjacent. 

After  a  journey  along  the  infested  route,  where  one  of  our 
officers  was  detailed  to  post  a  corporal  and  four  men  at  the 
stations  when  the  stage  company  endeavored  to  reinstate 
themselves,  he  decided  to  go  on  into  Denver  for  a  few  days. 
The  detention  then  was  threatening  to  be  prolonged,  and  at 
the  stage  company's  headquarters  the  greatest  opposition 
was  encountered  before  our  officer  could  induce  them  to 
send  out  a  coach.  Fortunately,  as  it  afterward  proved,  three 
soldiers  who  had  orders  to  return  to  their  troop,  accompa- 
nied him.  The  stage  company  opposed  every  move,  and 
warned  him  that  he  left  at  his  own  risk.  But  there  was  no 
other  alternative,  as  he  was  due  and  needed  at  Fort  Wallace. 
At  one  of  the  stage-stations  nearest  Denver  a  woman  still 


FIGHT   OF   THE   SEVENTH   CAVALRY.          391 

endeavored  to  brave  it  out;  but  her  nerve  deserted  her  at 
last,  and  she  implored  cur  officer  to  take  her  as  far  as  he 
went  on  her  way  into  the  States.  Her  husband,  trying  to 
protect  the  company's  interests,  elected  to  remain,  but  beg- 
ged that  his  wife  might  be  taken  away  from  the  deadly  peril 
of  their  surroundings.  Our  officer  frankly  said  there  was 
very  little  chance  that  the  stage  would  ever  reach  Fort  Wal- 
lace. She  replied  that  she  had  been  frightened  half  to  death 
all  summer,  and  was  sure  to  be  murdered  if  she  remained, 
and  might  as  well  die  in  the  stage,  as  there  was  no  chance 
for  her  at  the  station. 

Every  revolution  of  the  wheels  brought  them  into  greater 
danger.  The  three  soldiers  on  the  top  of  the  stage  kept  a 
lookout  on  every  side,  while  the  officer  inside  sat  with  rifle  in 
hand,  looking  from  the  door  on  either  side  the  trail.  Even 
with  all  this  vigilance,  the  attack,  when  it  came,  was  a  sur- 
prise. The  Indians  had  hidden  in  a  wash-out  near  the  road. 
Their  first  shot  fatally  wounded  one  of  the  soldiers,  who, 
dropping  his  gun,  fell  over  the  coach  railing,  and  with  dying 
energy,  half  swung  himself  into  the  door  of  the  stage,  gasp- 
ing out  a  message  to  his  mother.  Our  officer  replied  that  he 
would  listen  to  the  parting  words  later,  helped  the  man  to 
get  upon  the  seat,  and,  without  a  preliminary,  pushed  the 
woman  down  into  the  deep  body  of  the  coach,  bidding  her, 
as  she  valued  the  small  hope  of  life,  not  to  let  herself  be  seen. 
As  has  been  said  before,  those  familiar  with  Indian  warfare 
know  well  with  what  redoubled  ferocity  the  savage  fights,  if 
he  finds  that  a  white  woman  is  likely  to  fall  into  his  hands. 
It  is  well  known,  also,  that  the  squaws  are  ignored  if  the 
chiefs  have  a  white  woman  in  their  power,  and  it  brings  a 
more  fearful  agony  to  her  lot,  for  when  the  warriors  are  ab- 
sent from  the  village,  the  squaws,  wild  with  jealousy,  heap 
cruelty  and  exhausting  labor  upon  the  helpless  victim.  All 
this  the  frontier  woman  knew,  as  we  all  did,  and  it  needed 
no  second  command  to  keep  her  imperiled  head  on  the  floor 
of  the  coach. 

The  instant  the  dying  soldier  had  dropped  his  gun,  the 


392 


TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 


driver — ah,  what  cool  heads  those  stage-drivers  had ! — seized 
the  weapon,  thrusting  his  lines  between  his  agile  and  muscu- 
lar knees,  inciting  his  mules,  and  every  shot  had  a  deadly 
aim.  The  soldiers  fired  one  volley,  and  then  leaped  to  the 
ground  as  the  officer  sprang  from  the  stage  door,  and  follow- 
ing beside  the  vehicle,  continued  to  fire  as  they  walked. 
The  first  two  shots  from  the  roof  of  the  coach  had  killed  two 
Indians  hidden  in  the  hole  made  by  the  wash-out.  By  that 


AN   ATTACK    ON   A    STAGE-COACH. 

means  our  men  got  what  they  term  the  "  morale  "  on  them, 
and  though  they  pursued,  it  was  at  a  greater  distance  than  it 
would  have  been  had  not  two  of  their  number  fallen  at  the 
beginning  of  the  attack. 

This  running  fire  continued  for  five  miles,  when,  fortunately 
for  the  little  band,  one  of  the  stage  stations,  where  a  few  men 
had  been  posted  on  our  officer's  trip  out,  was  reached  at  last. 
Here  a  halt  was  made,  as  the  Indians  congregated  on  a  bluff 
where  they  could  watch  safely.  The  coach  was  a  wreck. 
The  large  lamps  on  either  side  of  the  driver's  seat  were  shat- 


FIGHT  OF  THE  SEVENTH  CAVALRY.    393 

tered  completely,  and  there  were  six  bullet-holes  between  the 
roof  and  the  wooden  body  of  the  coach.  When  the  door  of 
the  stage  was  opened,  and  the  crouching  woman  lifted  her 
face  from  the  floor  and  was  helped  out,  she  was  so  unmoved, 
so  calm,  the  officer  and  soldiers  were  astonished  at  her  nerve. 
She  looked  about,  and  said,  "But  I  don't  see  any  Indians 
yet."  The  officer  told  her  that  if  she  would  take  the  trouble 
to  look  over  on  the  bluff,  she  would  find  them  on  dress  pa- 
rade. Then  she  told  him  about  her  experience  in  the  stage. 
The  dying  soldier  had  breathed  his  last  soon  after  he  fell  into 
the  coach,  and  all  the  five  miles  his  dead  body  kept  slipping 
from  the  seat  on  to  the  prostrate  woman.  In  vain  she  pushed 
it  one  side;  the  violence  with  which  the  vehicle  rocked  from 
side  to  side,  as  the  driver  urged  his  animals  to  their  utmost 
speed,  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  protect  herself  from  con- 
tact with  the  heavy  corpse,  that  rolled  about  with  the  plung- 
ing of  the  coach.  All  this,  repeated  without  agitation,  with 
no  word  of  fear  for  the  remaining  portion  of  the  journey, 
which,  happily,  was  safely  finished,  drew  from  our  officer,  al- 
most dumb  with  amazement  at  the  fortitude  displayed,  a 
speech  that  would  rarely  be  set  down  by  the  novelist  who 
imagines  conversations,  but  which  is  just  what  is  likely  to  be 
said  in  real  life — "  By  Jove!  you  deserve  a  chromo!  " 

One  troop  of  the  Seventh  Cavalry  was  left  to  garrison  Fort 
Wallace,  while  the  remainder  of  the  regiment  was  scouting. 
The  post  was  then  about  as  dreary  as  any  spot  on  earth. 
There  were  no  trees;  only  the  arid  plain  surrounded  it,  and 
the  sirocco  winds  drove  the  sands  of  that  desolate  desert  into 
the  dug-outs  that  served  for  the  habitation  of  officers  and 
men.  The  supplies  were  of  the  worst  description.  '  It  was 
impossible  to  get  vegetables  of  any  kind,  and  there  was, 
therefore,  no  preventing  the  soldier's  scourge,  scurvy,  which 
the  heat  aggravated,  inflaming  the  already  burning  flesh. 
Even  the  medical  supplies  were  limited.  None  of  the  posts 
at  that  time  were  provided  with  decent  food — that  is,  none 
beyond  the  railroad.  I  remember  how  much  troubled  my 
husband  was  over  this  subject,  when  I  joined  him  at  Fort 


394  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Hays.  The  bacon  issued  to  the  soldiers  was  not  only  rancid, 
but  was  supplied  by  dishonest  contractors,  who  slipped  in 
any  foreign  substance  they  could,  to  make  the  weight  come 
up  to  the  required  amount;  and  thus  the  soldiers  were  cheated 
out  of  the  quantity  due  them,  as  well  as  imposed  upon  in  the 
quality  of  their  rations.  It  was  the  privilege  of  the  enlisted 
men  to  make  their  complaints  to  the  commanding  officer, 
and  some  of  them  sent  to  ask  the  General  to  come  to  the 
company  street  and  allow  them  to  prove  to  him  what  frauds 
were  being  practiced.  I  went  with  him,  and  saw  a  flat  stone, 
the  size  of  the  slices  of  bacon  as  they  were  packed  together, 
sandwiched  between  the  layers.  My  husband  was  justly  in- 
censed, but  could  promise  no  immediate  redress.  The  route 
of  travel  was  so  dangerous  that  it  was  necessary  to  detail  a 
larger  number  of  men  to  guard  any  train  of  supplies  that  at- 
tempted to  reach  those  distant  posts.  The  soldiers  felt,  and 
justly  too,  that  it  was  an  outrage  that  preparations  for  the 
arrival  of  so  large  a  number  of  troops  had  not  been  perfected 
in  the  spring,  before  the  whole  country  was  in  a  state  of  siege. 
The  supplies  provided  for  the  consumption  of  those  troops 
operating  in  the  field  or  stationed  at  the  posts  had  been  sent 
out  during  the  war.  It  was  then  1867,  and  they  had  lain  in 
the  poor,  ill-protected  adobe  or  dug-out  storehouse  all  the 
intervening  time — more  than  two  years.  At  Forts  Wallace 
and  Hays  there  were  no  storehouses,  and  the  flour  and  bacon 
were  only  protected  by  tarpaulins.  Both  became  rancid  and 
moldy,  and  were  at  the  mercy  of  the  rats  and  mice.  A  larger 
quantity  of  supplies  was  forwarded  to  that  portion  of  the 
country  the  last  year  of  the  war  than  was  needed  for  the  vol- 
unteer troops  sent  out  there,  and  consequently  our  Seventh 
Cavalry,  scouting  day  and  night  all  through  that  eventful 
summer,  were  compelled  to  subsist  on  the  food  already  on 
hand.  It  was  the  most  mistaken  economy  to  persist  in  issuing 
such  rations,  when  it  is  so  well  known  that  a  well-filled  stomach 
is  a  strong  background  for  a  courageous  heart.  The  desertions 
were  unceasing.  The  nearer  the  troops  approached  the  moun- 
tains, the  more  the  men  took  themselves  off  to  the  mines. 


FIGHT  OF  THE  SEVENTH  CAVALRY.    395 

In  April  of  that  year  no  deaths  had  occurred  at  Fort  Wal- 
lace, but  by  November  there  were  sixty  mounds  outside  the 
garrison,  covering  the  brave  hearts  of  s,oldiers  who  had  ei- 
ther succumbed  to  illness  or  been  shot  by  Indians.  It  was  a 
fearful  mortality  for  a  garrison  of  fewer  than  two  hundred 
souls.  If  the  soldiers,  hungry  for  fresh  meat,  went  out  to 
shoot  buffalo,  the  half  of  them  mounted  guard  to  protect 
those  who  literally  took  their  lives  in  their  hands  to  provide 
a  few  meals  of  wholesome  food  for  themselves  and  their 
comrades.  At  one  company  post  on  the  South  Platte,  a 
troop  of  our  Seventh  Cavalry  was  stationed.  In  the  mining 
excitement  that  ran  so  high  in  1866  and  1867,  the  captain 
woke  one  morning  to  find  that  his  first  sergeant  and  forty 
out  of  sixty  men  that  composed  the  garrison,  had  decamped, 
with  horses  and  equipments,  for  the  mines.  This  left  the 
handful  of  men  in  imminent  peril  from  Indian  assaults.  The 
wily  foe  lies  hidden  for  days  outside  the  garrison,  protected 
by  a  heap  of  stones  or  a  sage-bush,  and  informs  himself,  as 
no  other  spy  on  earth  ever  can,  just  how  many  souls  the  lit- 
tle group  of  tents  or  the  quarters  represent.  In  this  dire 
strait  a  dauntless  sergeant,  Andrews,  offered  to  go  in  search 
of  the  missing  men.  He  had  established  his  reputation  as  a 
marksman  in  the  regiment,  and  soldiers  used  to  say  that 
"such  shooting  as  Andrews  did,  got  the  bulge  on  every- 
body." He  was  seemingly  fearless.  The  captain  consented  to 
his  departure,  but  demurred  to  his  going  alone.  The  sergeant 
believed  he  could  only  succeed  if  he  went  into  the  mining- 
camp  unaccompanied,  and  so  the  officer  permitted  him  to 
go.  He  arrested  and  brought  away  nine,  traveling  two  hun- 
dred miles  with  them  to  Fort  Wallace.  There  was  no  guard- 
house at  the  post,  and  the  commanding  officer  had  to  exer- 
cise his  ingenuity  to  secure  these  deserters.  A  large  hole 
was  dug  in  the  middle  of  the  parade-ground  and  covered 
with  logs  and  earth,  leaving  a  square  aperture  in  the  centre. 
The  ladder  by  which  they  descended  was  removed  by  the 
guard  when  all  were  in,  and  the  Bastile  could  hardly  be  more 
secure  than  this  ingenious  prison. 


396  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

Two  separate  attacks  were  made  by  three  hundred  Dog- 
soldiers  (Cheyennes)  to  capture  Fort  Wallace  that  summer. 
During  the  first  fight,  the  prisoners  in  their  pit  heard  the  fir- 
ing, and  knew  that  all  the  troops  were  outside  the  post  en- 
gaged with  the  Indians.  Knowing  their  helplessness,  their 
torture  of  mind  can  be  imagined.  If  the  enemy  succeeded 
in  entering  the  garrison,  their  fate  was  sealed.  The  attacks 
were  so  sudden  that  there  was  no  opportunity  to  release 
these  men.  The  officers  knew  well  enough,  that,  facing  a 
common  foe,  they  might  count  on  unquestionable  unity  of 
action  from  the  deserters.  Some  clemency  was  to  be  ex- 
pected from  a  military  court  that  would  eventually  try  them, 
but  all  the  world  knows  the  savage  cry  is  "  No.quarter! "  In 
an  attack  on  a  post,  there  is  only  a  wild  stampede  at  the 
sound  of  the  "  General  "  from  the  trumpet.  There  is  a  rush 
for  weapons,  and  every  one  dashes  outside  the  garrison  to 
the  skirmish-line.  In  such  a  race,  every  soldier  elects  to  be 
his  own  captain  till  the  field  is  reached.  I  have  seen  the 
troops  pour  out  of  a  garrison,  at  an  unexpected  attack,  in  an 
incredibly  short  time.  No  one  stands  upon  the  order  of  his 
going,  or  cares  whose  gun  or  whose  horse  he  seizes  on  the 
way.  Once  the  skirmish-line  is  formed,  the  soldierly  quali- 
ties assert  themselves,  and  complete  order  is  resumed.  It  is 
only  necessary  to  be  in  the  midst  of  such  excitement,  to 
realize  how  readily  prisoners  out  of  sight  would  be  forgotten. 

After  the  fight  was  over,  and  the  Indians  were  driven  off, 
the  poor  fellows  sent  to  ask  if  they  could  speak  with  the 
commanding  officer,  and  when  he  came  to  their  prison  for 
the  interview,  they  said,  "For  God's  sake,  do  anything  in 
future  with  us  that  you  see  fit — condemn  us  to  any  kind  of 
punishment,  put  balls  and  chains  on  all  of  us — but  whatever 
you  do,  in  case  of  another  attack,  let  us  out  of  this  hole  and 
give  us  a  gun ! "  I  have  known  a  generous-minded  com- 
manding officer  to  release  every  prisoner  in  the  guard-house 
and  set  aside  their  sentences  forever,  after  they  have  shown 
their  courage  and  presence  of  mind  in  defending  a  post  from 
Indians,  or  other  perils,  such  as  fire  and  storms. 


FIGHT  OF  THE  SEVENTH  CAVALRY.    397 

The  brave  sergeant  who  had  filled  the  pit  with  his  cap- 
tures, asked  to  follow  a  deserter  who  had  escaped  to  a  settle- 
ment on  the  Saline  River.  He  found  the  man,  arrested  him, 
and  brought  him  away  unaided.  When  they  reached  the 
railway  at  Ellsworth,  the  man  made  a  plea  of  hunger,  and 
the  sergeant  took  him  to  an  eating-house.  While  standing 
at  the  counter,  he  took  the  cover  from  a  red-pepper  box  and 
furtively  watching  his  chance,  threw  the  contents  into  the 
sergeant's  eyes,  completely  blinding  him.  The  sergeant  was 
then  accounted  second  only  to  Wild  Bill  as  a  shot,  and  not 
a  whit  less  cool.  Though  groaning  with  agony,  he  lost  none 
of  his  self-possession.  Listening  for  the  footfall  as  the  de- 
serter started  for  the  door,  he  fired  in  the  direction,  and  the 
man  fell  dead.  BttflCfOtt  LibfaTJI 

Our  regiment  was  now  passing  through  its  worst  days. 
Constant  scouting  over  the  sun-baked,  cactus-bedded  Plains, 
by  men  who  were  as  yet  unacclimated,  and  learning  by  the 
severest  lessons  to  inure  themselves  to  hardships,  made  ter- 
rible havoc  in  the  ranks.  The  horses,  also  fresh  to  this  sort 
of  service,  grew  gaunt,  and  dragged  their  miserably  fed 
bodies  over  the  blistering  trail.  Here  and  there  along  the 
line  a  trooper  walked  beside  his  beast,  wetting,  when  he 
could,  the  flesh  that  was  raw  from  the  chafing  of  the  saddle, 
especially  when  the  rider  is  a  novice  in  horsemanship. 

Insubordination  among  the  men  was  the  certain  conse- 
quence of  the  half-starved,  discouraged  state  they  were  in. 
One  good  fight  would  have  put  heart  into  them  to  some  ex- 
tent, for  the  hopelessness  of  following  such  a  will-o'-the-wisp 
as  the  Indians  were  that  year,  made  them  think  their  scout- 
ing did  no  good  and  might  as  well  be  discontinued.  Some 
of  the  officers  were  poor  disciplinarians,  either  from  inexpe- 
rience or  because  they  lacked  the  gift  of  control  over  others, 
which  seems  left  out  of  certain  temperaments.  Alas  !  some 
had  no  control  over  themselves;  and  no  one  could  expect 
obedience  in  such  a  case.  In  its  early  days  the  Seventh  Cav- 
alry was  not  the  temperate  regiment  it  afterward  became. 
Some  of  the  soldiers  in  the  ranks  had  been  officers  during 


398  TENTING   ON  THE  PLAINS. 

the  war,  and  they  were  learning  the  lesson,  that  hard  sum- 
mer, of  receiving  orders  instead  of  issuing  them.  There  were 
a  good  many  men  who  had  served  in  the  Confederate  army, 
and  had  not  a  ray  of  patriotism  in  enlisting;  it  was  merely  a 
question  of  subsistence  to  them  in  their  beggared  condition. 

There  were  troopers  who  had  entered  the  service  from  a 
romantic  love  of  adventure,  with  little  idea  of  what  stuff  a 
man  must  be  made  if  he  is  hourly  in  peril,  or,  what  taxes  the 
nerves  still  more,  continually  called  upon  to  endure  privation. 

The  mines  were  evidently  the  great  object  that  induced 
the  soldier  to  enlist  that  year.  The  Eastern  papers  had  wild 
accounts  of  the  enormous  yield  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 
free  transportation  by  Government  could  be  gained  by  enlist- 
ing. At  that  time,  when  the  railroad  was  incomplete,  and 
travel  almost  given  up  on  account  of  danger  to  the  stages; 
when  the  telegraph,  which  now  reaches  the  destination  of 
the  rogue  with  its  warning  far  in  advance  of  him,  had  not 
even  been  projected  over  the  Plains — it  was  the  easiest  sort 
of  escape  for  a  man,  for  when  once  he  reached  the  mines  he 
was  lost  for  years,  and  perhaps  died  undiscovered. 

Recruits  of  the  kind  sent  to  us  would,  even  under  favor- 
able circumstances,  be  difficult  material  from  which  to  evolve 
soldierly  men;  and  considering  their  terrible  hardships,  it 
was  no  wonder  the  regiment  was  nearly  decimated.  In  en- 
listing, the  recruit  rarely  realizes  the  trial  that  awaits  him  of 
surrendering  his  independence.  We  hear  and  know  so  much 
in  this  country  of  freedom  that  even  a  tramp  appreciates  it. 
If  a  man  is  reasonably  subordinate,  it  is  still  very  hard  to  be- 
come accustomed  to  the  infinitesimal  observances  that  I  have 
so  often  been  told  are  "absolutely  necessary  to  good  order 
and  military  discipline."  To  a  looker-on  like  me,  it  seemed 
very  much  like  reducing  men  to  machines.  The  men  made 
so  much  trouble  on  the  campaign — and  we  knew  of  it  by  the 
many  letters  that  came  into  garrison  in  one  mail,  as  well  as 
by  personal  observation,  when  in  the  regiment — that  I  did 
not  find  much  sympathy  in  my  heart  for  them.  In  one  night, 
while  I  was  at  Fort  Hays,  forty  men  deserted,  and  in  so  bold 


FIGHT  OF  THE  SEVENTH  CAVALRY.    399 

and  deliberate  a  manner,  taking  arms,  ammunition,  horses, 
and  quantities  of  food,  that  the  officers  were  roused  to  ac- 
tion, for  it  looked  as  if  not  enough  men  would  be  left  to  pro- 
tect the  fort.  A  conspiracy  was  formed  among  the  men,  by 
which  a  third  of  the  whole  command  planned  to  desert  at 
one  time.  Had  not  their  plotting  been  discovered,  there 
would  not  have  been  a  safe  hour  for  those  who  remained,  as 
the  Indians  lay  in  wait  constantly.  My  husband,  in  writing 
of  that  wholesale  desertion  in  the  early  months  of  the  regi- 
ment's history,  makes  some  excuse  for  them,  even  under  cir- 
cumstances that  would  seem  to  have  put  all  tribulation  and 
patience  out  of  mind. 

After  weary  marches,  the  regiment  found  itself  nearing 
Fort  Wallace  with  a  sense  of  relief,  feeling  that  they  might 
halt  and  recruit  in  that  miserable  but  comparatively  safe  post. 
They  were  met  by  the  news  of  the  ravages  of  the  cholera. 
No  time  could  be  worse  for  the  soldiers  to  encounter  it.  The 
long,  trying  campaign,  even  extending  into  the  Department 
of  the  Platte,  had  fatigued  and  disheartened  the  command. 
Exhaustion  and  semi-starvation  made  the  men  an  easy  prey. 
The  climate,  though  so  hot  in  summer,  had  heretofore  been 
in  their  favor,  as  the  air  was  pure,  and,  in  ordinary  weather, 
bracing.  But  with  cholera,  even  the  high  altitude  was  no 
protection.  No  one  could  account  for  the  appearance  of  the 
pestilence;  never  before  or  since  had  it  been  known  in  so  ele- 
vated a  part  of  our  country.  There  were  those  who  attributed 
the  scourge  to  the  upturning  of  the  earth  in  the  building  of 
the  Kansas  Pacific  Railroad ;  but  the  engineers  had  not  even 
been  able  to  prospect  as  far  as  Wallace  on  account  of  the  In- 
dians. An  infantry  regiment,  on  its  march  to  New  Mexico, 
halted  at  Fort  Wallace,  and  even  in  their  brief  stay  the  men 
were  stricken  down,  and  with  inefficient  nurses,  no  com- 
forts, not  even  wholesome  food,  it  was  a  wonder  that  there 
was  enough  of  the  regiment  left  for  an  organization.  The 
wife  of  one  of  the  officers,  staying  temporarily  in  a  dug-out, 
fell  a  victim,  and  died  in  the  wretched  underground  habitation 
in  which  an  Eastern  farmer  would  refuse  to  shelter  his  stock. 


400  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

It  was  a  hard  fate  for  our  Seventh  Cavalry  men.  Their 
camp,  outside  the  garrison,  had  no  protection  from  the  re- 
morseless sun,  and  the  poor  fellows  rolled  on  the  hot  earth 
in  their  small  tents,  without  a  cup  of  cold  water  or  a  morsel 
of  decent  food.  The  surgeons  fought  day  and  night  to  stay 
the  spread  of  the  disease,  but  everything  was  against  them. 
The  exhausted  soldiers,  disheartened  by  long,  hard,  unsuc- 
cessful marching,  had  little  desire  to  live  when  once  seized 
by  the  awful  disease. 

With  the  celerity  with  which  evil  news  travels,  much  of 
what  I  have  written  came  back  to  us.  Though  the  mails 
were  so  uncertain,  and  travel  was  almost  discontinued,  still 
the  stoiy  of  the  illness  and  desperate  condition  of  our  regi- 
ment reached  us,  and  many  a  garbled  and  exaggerated  tale 
came  with  the  true  ones.  Day  after  day  I  sat  on  the  gallery 
of  the  quarters  in  which  we  were  temporarily  established, 
watching  for  the  first  sign  of  the  cavalryman  who  brought 
our  mail.  Doubtless  he  thought  himself  a  winged  Mercury. 
In  reality,  no  snail  ever  crept  so  slowly.  When  he  began  his 
walk  toward  me,  measuring  his  regulation  steps  with  military 
precision,  a  world  of  fretful  impatience  possessed  me.  I 
wished  with  all  my  soul  I  was,  for  the  moment,  any  one  but 
the  wife  of  his  commanding  officer,  that  I  might  pick  up  my 
skirts  and  fly  over  the  grass,  and  snatch  the  parcel  from  his 
hand.  When  he  finally  reached  the  gallery,  and  swung  him- 
self into  position  to  salute,  my  heart  thumped  like  the  in- 
fantry drum.  Day  after  day  came  the  same  pompous,  mad- 
dening words:  "  I  have  the  honor  to  report  there  are  no  let- 
ters for  Mrs.  Major-General  George  Armstrong  Custer."  Not 
caring  at  last  whether  the  man  saw  the  flush  of  disappoint- 
ment, the  choking  breath,  and  the  rising  tears,  I  fled  in  the 
midst  of  his  slow  announcement,  to  plunge  my  wretched 
head  into  my  pillow,  hoping  the  sound  of  the  sobs  would  not 
reach  Eliza,  who  was  generally  hovering  near  to  propose 
something  that  would  comfort  me  in  my  disappointment. 

She  knew  work  was  my  panacea,  and  made  an  injured 
mouth  over  the  rent  in  her  apron,  which,  in  her  desires  to 


FIGHT   OF   THE   SEVENTH   CAVALRY.          401 

keep  me  occupied,  she  was  not  above  tearing  on  purpose. 
With  complaining  tones  she  said,  "  Miss  Libbie,  ain't  you 
goin'  to  do  no  sewin'  for  me  at  all  ?  Tears  like  every  darkey 
in  garrison  has  mo'  clo'es  than  I  has  " — forgetting  in  her  zeal 
the  abbreviation  of  her  words,  about  which  her  "  ole  miss" 
had  warned  her.  Sewing,  reading,  painting,  any  occupation 
that  had  beguiled  the  hours,  lost  its  power  as  those  letterless 
days  came  and  went.  I  was  even  afraid  to  show  my  face  at 
the  door  when  the  mail-man  was  due,  for  I  began  to  despair 
about  hearing  at  all.  After  days  of  such  gloom,  my  leaden 
heart  one  morning  quickened  its  beats  at  an  unusual  sound — 
the  clank  of  a  sabre  on  our  gallery  and  with  it  the  quick, 
springing  steps  of  feet  unlike  the  quiet  infantry  around  us. 
The  door,  behind  which  I  paced  uneasily,  opened,  and  with 
a  flood  of  sunshine  that  poured  in,  came  a  vision  far  brighter 
than  even  the  brilliant  Kansas  sun.  There  before  me,  blithe 
and  buoyant,  stood  my  husband  !  In  an  instant,  every  mo- 
ment of  the  preceding  months  was  obliterated.  What  had  I 
to  ask  more  ?  What  did  earth  hold  for  us  greater  than  what 
we  then  had  ?  The  General,  as  usual  when  happy  and  ex- 
cited, talked  so  rapidly  that  the  words  jumbled  themselves 
into  hopeless  tangles,  but  my  ears  were  keen  enough  to  ex- 
tract from  the  medley  the  fact  that  I  was  to  return  at  once 
with  him. 

Eliza,  half  crying,  scolding  as  she  did  when  overjoyed,  vi- 
brated between  kitchen  and  parlor,  and  finally  fell  to  cooking, 
as  a  safety-valve  for  her  overcharged  spirits.  The  General 
ordered  everything  she  had  in  the  house,  determined,  for 
once  in  that  summer  of  deprivations,  to  have,  as  the  soldiers 
term  it,  one  "good,  square  meal." 

After  a  time,  when  my  reason  was  again  enthroned,  I  be- 
gan to  ask  what  good  fortune  had  brought  him  to  me.  It 
seems  that  my  husband,  after  reaching  Fort  Wallace,  was 
overwhelmed  with  the  discouragements  that  met  him.  His 
men  dying  about  him,  without  his  being  able  to  afford  them 
relief,  was  something  impossible  for  him  to  face  without  a 
struggle  for  their  assistance.  A  greater  danger  than  all  was 


402  TENTING   ON   THE   PLAINS. 

yet  to  be  encountered,  if  the  right  measures  were  not  taken 
immediately.  Even  the  wretched  food  was  better  than  starva- 
tion, and  so  much  of  that  had  been  destroyed,  with  the  hope 
of  the  arrival  of  better,  that  there  was  not  enough  left  to 
ration  the  men,  and  unless  more  came  they  would  starve,  as 
they  were  out  then  two  hundred  miles  from  the  railroad.  If 
a  scout  was  sent,  his  progress  was  so  slow,  hiding  all  day  and 
traveling  only  by  night,  it  would  take  so  long  that  there  might 
be  men  dying  from  hunger  as  well  as  cholera,  before  he  could 
return  with  aid.  And,  besides  this  scarcity  of  food,  the  med- 
ical supplies  were  insufficient.  The  General,  prompt  always 
in  action,  suddenly  determined  to  relieve  the  beleaguered 
place  by  going  himself  for  medicines  and  rations.  He  took 
a  hundred  men  to  guard  the  wagons  that  would  bring  relief 
to  the  suffering,  and  in  fifty-five  hours  they  were  at  Fort 
Hays,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  distant.  It  was  a  terrible 
journey.  He  afterward  made  a  march  of  eighty  miles  in 
seventeen  hours,  without  the  horses  showing  themselves  fag- 
ged ;  and  during  the  war  he  had  marched  a  portion  of  his 
Division  of  cavalry,  accompanied  by  horse  artillery,  ninety 
miles  in  twenty-four  hours. 

My  husband,  finding  I  had  been  sent  away  from  Fort  Hays, 
and  believing  me  to  be  at  Fort  Harker,  a  victim  of  cholera, 
determined  to  push  on  there  at  night,  leaving  the  train  for 
supplies  to  travel  the  distance  next  day.  Colonel  Custer  and 
Colonel  Cook  accompanied  him.  They  found  the  garrison  in 
the  deepest  misery,  the  cholera  raging  at  its  worst,  the  gloom 
and  hopelessness  appalling.  My  husband  left  the  two  officers 
to  load  the  wagons,  and  fortunately,  as  the  railroad  had 
reached  Fort  Harker,  the  medical  and  commissary  sup- 
plies were  abundant.  It  took  but  a  few  hours  to  reach  Fort 
Riley. 

He  knew  from  former  experience  that  I  would  require  but 
a  short  time  to  get  ready — indeed,  my  letters  were  full  of  as- 
surances that  I  lived  from  hour  to  hour  with  the  one  hope 
that  I  might  join  him,  and  these  letters  had  met  him  at  Forts 
Hays  and  Harker.  He  knew  well  that  nothing  we  might 


FIGHT   OF    THE   SEVENTH   CAVALRY.          403 

encounter  could  equal  the  desolation  and  suspense  of  the 
days  that  I  was"  enduring  at  Fort  Riley. 

My  little  valise  was  filled  long  before  it  was  necessary  for 
us  to  take  the  return  train  that  evening.  With  the  joy,  the 
relief,  the  gratitude,  of  knowing  that  God  had  spared  my 
husband  through  an  Indian  campaign,  and  averted  from  him 
the  cholera  ;  and  now  that  I  was  to  be  given  reprieve  from 
days  of  anxiety,  and  nights  of  hideous  dreams  of  what  might 
befall  him,  and  that  I  would  be  taken  back  to  camp — could 
more  be  crowded  into  one  day?  Was  there  room  for  a 
thought,  save  one  of  devout  thankfulness,  and  such  happiness 
as  I  find  no  words  to  describe  ? 

There  was  in  that  summer  of  1867  one  long,  perfect  day. 
It  was  mine,  and — blessed  be  our  memory,  which  preserves 
to  us  the  joys  as  well  as  the  sadness  of  life  ! — it  is  still  mine, 
for  time  and  for  eternity. 


END. 


{popular  IRcw  Books  .  .  *  . 

FROM  THE  LIST  OF 

Charles  %.  Webster  Si  Co, 


fiction. 

The  £1,000,000  Bank-Note  and  Other  Stories.— BY 
MARK  TWAIN.  The  Bank  of  England  once  issued  two  notes 
of  a  million  pounds  each.  Two  rich  Englishmen — brothers — 
fell  into  a  dispute  as  to  what  would  become  of  an  honest 
stranger  turned  adrift  in  London  with  no  money  but  one  of 
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being  in  possession  of  it.  How  they  founcl  the  man — a  younj* 
American — and  his  adventures  with  the  note,  are  fully  related 
in  the  story.  The  book  contains  other  stories,  many  of  which 
have  never  before  appeared  in  print,  and  none  in  book  form. 
They  include:  "About  Ships,  from  Noah's  Ark  to  the  Ves- 
sels of  To-day,"  "Playing  Courier,"  "The  German  Chicago," 
"A  Majestic  Literary  Fossil,"  "Letter  to  Queen  Victoria," 
and  ' '  Mental  Telegraphy. "  With  a  frontispiece  by  Dan  Beard. 
Cloth,  8vo,  $1.00.  Stamped  leather,  $1.50. 

Elizabeth:  Christian  Scientist.— BY  MATT  CRIM,  author  of 

' '  Adventures  of  a  Fair  Rebel, "  etc.  The  success  of  Miss  Crim's 
previous  works  of  fiction  encourages  us  to  announce  her  new 
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after  all,  her  destiny  is  to  be  loved  and  wedded  does  not  detract 
from  the  book's  interest.  The  true  aims  and  spirit  of  Christian 
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do  away  with  many  false  impressions.  Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 
Paper,  50  cents. 


2  Popular  New  Books 

Stories  from  the  Rabbis. — BY  ABKAM  S.  ISAACS,  PH.  D., 
professor  of  German  and  Hebrew  in  the  University  of  the  City 
of  New  York.  Dr.  Isaacs  has  gathered  from  the  Talmud  and 
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and  has  re-told  them  in  genial  prose.  He  is  thus  enabled  to 
show  the  Rabbis  in  a  different  character  from  that  usually  as- 
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In  Beaver  Cove  and  Elsewhere. — BY  MATT  CRIM.  This 
volume  contains  all  of  Miss  Crim's  most  famous  short  stories. 
These  stories  have  received  the  highest  praise  from  eminent 
critics,  and  have  given  Miss  Grim  a  position  among  the  leading 
lady  writers  of  America.  Illustrated  by  E.  W.  Kemble. 
Cloth,  8vo,  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 

"  Her  stories  bear  the  stamp  of  genius." — St.  Paul  Globe. 

"  A  writer  who  has  quickly  won  recognition  by  short  stories  of  ex- 
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"  The  true  Crackers  are  of  Northern  Georgia,  and  Matt  Grim  is  as 
much  their  delineator  as  is  Miss  Murfree  the  chronicler  of  the  moun- 
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Adventures  of  a  Fair  Rebel.— BY  MATT  CRIM.  This  novel 
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Don  Finimondone:  Calabrian  Sketches.— BY  ELISABETH 
CAVAZZA.  Though  a  native  and  resident  of  Portland,  Me., 
and  belonging  to  an  old  New  England  family,  Mrs.  Cavazza 
early  became  interested  in  Italian  matters.  Few  American 
authors  have  so  completely  captured  the  Italian  spirit  as  she 
has  done  in  these  pictures  of  Italian  life  among  the  lowly. 
("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.")  Frontispiece  by  Dan 
Beard.  Cloth,  12mo,  75  cents. 

"  Racy  of  the  Calabrian  soil."— Cleveland  Plaindealer. 

"The  whole  book  has  a  pungent  originality,  very  grateful  to  the 
jaded  reader  of  commonplace  romance."— Christian  Union. 

"  Mrs.  Cavazza  has  made  a  great  beginning  in  these  stories,  which 
will  bear  more  than  one  reading,  and  which,  as  the  work  of  a  New 


England  woman,  are  very  remarkable.    They  are  delightf  ul,  and  they 
are  mature."— Richard  Henry  Stoddard  in  Mail  and  . 


Express. 


Charles  L.  Webster  &  Co.  3 

The  Master  of  Silence.  A  Romance.— BY  IRVING  BACHEL- 
LER.  Readers  of  Mr.  Bacheller's  stories  and  poems  in  the 
magazines  will  look  with  interest  for  his  first  extended  effort 
in  fiction.  ("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.")  Cloth, 
12mo,  75  cents. 

"  '  The  Master  of  Silence  '  is  the  first  novel  of  Mr.  Irving  Bacheller, 
of  the  newspaper  syndicate,  and  deals  in  a  striking  way  with  the  fac- 
ulty of  mind-reading." — New  York  World. 

"  A  well-named  story  is  already  on  the  road  to  success.  ...  Al- 
together the  story  is  a  strange  character  study,  full  of  suggestion, 
earnest  in  moral  purpose,  and  worthy  of  attention."— Cincinnati  En- 
quirer. 

Mr.  Billy  Downs  and  His  Likes.— BY  RICHARD  MALCOLM 
JOHNSTON,  author  of  "  Dukesborough  Tales."  Colonel  John- 
ston has  selected  a  number  of  his  most  characteristic  stories, 
now  first  published  in  book  form,  for  a  volume  of  the  new 
' '  Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series. "  Colonel  Johnston  is 
easily  the  dean  of  Southern  men  of  letters,  and  the  announce- 
ment of  a  new  volume  from  his  pen  calls  for  little  comment. 
Frontispiece  by  Dan  Beard.  Cloth,  12mo,  75  cents. 

"  A  collection  of  five  entertaining  short  storie ;  from  our  brilliant 
and  very  humorous  Georgia  friend,  Richard  Malcolm  Johnston." — 
The  Independent. 

Moonblight  and  Six  Feet  of  Romance. — BY  DAN  BEARD. 
In  "Moonblight"  the  artist-author  has  brought  into  play  all 
those  resources  of  humor,  imagination,  and  sarcasm  for  which 
he  is  so  well  known,  to  teach  under  the  guise  of  a  romance 
the  lesson  of  the  wrongs  inflicted  by  capital  on  labor.  In  the 
light  of  recent  events  at  the  Homestead  mills,  this  book  seems 
to  have  been  prophetic.  Illustrated  by  the  author.  Cloth, 
8vo,  $1.00. 

"  A  strange  but  powerful  book." — Philadelphia  Bulletin. 

"  He  does  not  construct  a  Utopia  like  Bellamy;  the  reforms  he  pro- 
poses are  sensible  and  would  be  profitable,  if  greedy  capital  could  be 
induced  to  consider  and  try  them.— Springfield  Republican. 

"  It  is  a  witty,  gay,  poetical  book,  full  of  bright  things  and  true 
things,  the  seer  donning  a  jester's  garb  to  preach  in;  and  one  may  be 
sure,  under  the  shrug  and  the  smile,  of  the  keen  dart  aimed  at  pride, 
prejudice,  self-seeking,  injustice,  and  the  praise  for  whatsoever  is 
beautiful  and  good." — Hartford  Courant.  , 

The  American  Claimant.  —  BY  MARK  TWAIN.  The  most 
widely  known  character  in  American  fiction,  Col.  Mulberry 
Sellers,  is  again  introduced  to  readers  in  an  original  and  de- 
lightful romance,  replete  with  Mark  Twain's  whimsical  humor. 
Fully  illustrated  by  Dan  Beard.  Cloth,  8vo,  $1.50. 

The  Prince  and  the  Pauper.  A  Tale  for  Young  People 
of  all  Ages. — BY  MARK  TWAIN.  New  popular  edition  of 
this  "  classic"  of  American  fiction.  It  is  a  charming  romance 
of  the  life  and  times  of  Edward  VI.,  the  boy  king  of  England, 


4  Popular  Neiv  Books 

and  iS  considered  by  many  to  be  Mark  Twain's  best  work. 
Pronounced  by  high  authorities  one  of  the  best  child's  stories 
ever  written.  Uniform  with  the  cheap  edition  of  "  Huckle- 
berry Finn."  Illustrated.  Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 

Adventures  of  Huckleberry  Finn.  (Tom  Sawyer's 
Comrade.)  —  BY  MARK  TWAIN.  New  cheap  edition  of  the 
laughable  adventures  of  Huck  Finn  and  a  runaway  slave  in  a 
raft  journey  along  the  Mississippi.  Contains  the  famous  de- 
scription of  a  Southern  feud.  Illustrated  by  E.  W.  Kemble. 
Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 

Ivan  the  Pool,  and  Other  Stories.  —  BY  LEO  TOLSTOI. 
Translated  direct  from  the  Russian  by  Count  Norraikow,  with 
illustrations  by  the  celebrated  Russian  artist,  Gribayedoff. 


y 

,  $1. 


Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 

"  The  stories  in  this  volume  are  wonderfully  simple  and  pure."  — 
Detroit  Free  Press. 

"  As  creations  of  fancy  they  take  high  rank."  —  Boston  Transcript. 

"  '  Ivan  the  Fool  '  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  suggestive  of 
Tolstoi's  fables,  and  the  work  of  translation  is  admirably  performed." 

Chicago  Standard. 

Life  IS  Worth  Living  and  Other  Stories.—  BY  LEO  TOL- 

STOI. Translated  direct  from  the  Russian  by  Count  Norrai- 
kow.  This  work,  unlike  some  of  his  later  writings,  shows  the 
great  writer  at  his  best.  The  stories,  while  entertaining  in 
themselves,  are  written  for  a  purpose,  and  contain  abundant 
food  for  reflection.  Illustrated.  Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 

Merry  Tales.  —  BY  MARK  TWAIN.  This  is  the  opening  volume 
of  the  new  "  Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series."  Contains  some 
of  the  author's  favorite  sketches,  including  his  personal  reminis- 
cences of  the  war  as  given  in  "  The  Private  History  of  a  Cam- 
paign that  Failed."  With  portrait  frontispiece.  Cloth,  12mo, 
75  cents. 

"  Very  readable  and  amusing  tales  they  are."—  New  York  Sun. 

"  Thousands  will  welcome  in  permanent  form  these  delicious  bits  of 
humor."—  Boston  Traveller. 

"  Some  of  these  stories  are  deep  with  pathos;  others  bubble  over 
with  humor.  All  of  them  are  intensely  interesting  and  readable  from 
the  opening  sentence  to  the  closing  line."—  New  Orleans  States. 


poetry 

Selected  Poems  by  Walt  Whitman. — Chosen  and  edited  by 
Arthur  Stedman.  Shortly  before  Mr.  Whitman's  death,  the 
old  poet  for  the  first  time  consented  to  the  publication  of  a  se- 
lection from  "Leaves  of  Grass,"  embracing  his  most  popular 
short  poems  and  representative  passages  from  his  longer  lyrical 


Charles  L.  Webster  &  Go.  5 

efforts.  Arranged  for  home  and  school  use.  With  a  portrait 
of  the  author.  ("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.")  Cloth, 
12mo,  75  cents. 

"  Mr.  Stedman's  choice  is  skilfully  made." — TJie  Nation. 

"  The  volume  represents  all  that  is  best  in  Walt  Whitman."— San 
Francisco  Chronicle. 

"  That  in  Walt  Whitman  which  is  virile  and  bardic,  lyrically  fresh 
and  sweet,  or  epically  grand  and  elemental,  will  be  preserved  to  the 
edification  of  young  men  and  maidens,  as  well  as  of  maturer  folk."- 
Hartford  Courant. 

Flower  o'  the  Vine :  Romantic  Ballads  and  Sospiri  di 
Roma. — BY  WILLIAM  SHARP,  author  of  "A  Fellowe  and 
His  Wife"  (with  Miss  Howard),  "Life  and  Letters  of  Joseph 
Severn,"  etc.  With  an  introduction  by  Thomas  A.  Janvier, 
and  a  portrait  of  the  author.  As  one  of  the  most  popular  of 
the  younger  English  poets,  equal  success  is  anticipated  for 
this  first  American  edition  of  Mr.  Sharp's  poems.  Its  welcome 
in  the  American  press  has  been  most  hearty.  Tastefully  bound, 
with  appropriate  decorative  design.  Cloth,  8vo,  $1.50. 

"  This  volume  of  verse,  by  Mr.  William  Sharp,  has  a  music  like  that 
of  the  meeting  of  two  winds,  one  blown  down  from  the  Northern  seas, 
keen  and  salty,  the  other  carrying  on  its  wings  the  warm  fragrance  of 
Southern  fields."— The  Literary  World  (Boston). 

"  When  Mr.  Sharp  leaves  the  North  with  its  wild  stories  of  love  and 
fighting  and  death,  and  carries  us  away  with  him  in  the  '  Sospiri  di 
Roma '  to  the  warmth  and  the  splendor  of  the  South,  he  equally  shows 
the  creative  faculty.  He  is  a  true  lover  of  Earth  with  her  soothing 
touch  and  soft  caress;  he  lies  in  her  arms,  he  hears  her  whispered 
secret,  and  through  the  real  discovers  the  spiritual."— Philadelphia 
Record. 

Gravel,  Biograpb?,  ant> 

Tenting  on  the  Plains. — BY  ELIZABETH  B.  OUSTER,  author 
of  "  Boots  and  Saddles,"  "  Following  the  Guidon,"  etc.  New 
popular  edition.  This  book  was  originally  published  in  a  very 
expensive  form  and  sold  only  by  subscription.  Many  people 
who  have  read  and  enjoyed  "  Boots  and  Saddles  "  were  anxious 
to  read  Mrs.  Ouster's  next  book,  but  were  in  many  cases  de- 
terred by  the  high  price  of  the  book.  This  new  edition  is  now 
published  to  meet  this  demand.  It  contains  all  the  illustra- 
tions of  the  more  expensive  edition,  is  printed  from  new  plates, 
and  has  an  attractive  new  cover.  Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 

Subscription  edition,  containing  a  biography  of  General 
Ouster,  with  selections  from  his  correspondence,  and  a  steel 
portrait.  8vo,  $3.50  to  $7.00,  according  to  binding. 

The  German  Emperor  and  His  Eastern  Neighbors. — 
BY  POULTNEY  BIGELOW.  Mr.  Bigelow  was  recently  expelled 
from  Russia  as  the  author  of  this  volume.  Interesting  personal 
notes  of  his  old  playmate's  boyhood  and  education  are  given, 


6  Popular  New  Books 

together  with  a  description  of  the  Emperor's  army,  his  course 
aud  policy  since  accession,  and  the  condition  of  affairs  on  the 
Russian  and  Roumanian  frontiers.  With  fine  portrait  of  Wil- 
liam II.  ("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.")  Cloth,  12mo, 
75  cents. 

"  An  interesting  contribution  to  evidence  concerning  Russia  "  — 
Springfield  Republican. 

"  A  much-needed  correction  to  the  avalanche  of  abuse  heaped  upon 
the  German  Emperor.'1— Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

Paddles  and  Politics  Down  the  Danube.— By  POULTNEY 
BIGELOW.  Companion  volume  to  "The  German  Emperor." 
A  highly  interesting  journal  of  a  canoe- voyage  down  "the 
Mississippi  of  Europe  "  from  its  source  to  the  Black  Sea,  with 
descriptions  of  the  resident  nations,  and  casual  discussions  of 
the  political  situation.  Illustrated  with  numerous  offhand 
sketches  made  on  the  spot  by  Mr.  Bigelow.  ("  Fiction,  Fact, 
and  Fancy  Series.")  Cloth,  12mo,  75  cents. 

"  This  is  the  most  expressive  book  on  the  Danube  and  the  modern 
Danube  region  that  has  yet  been  published."— Brooklyn  Times. 

Writings  of  Christopher  Columbus.— Edited  with  an  in- 
troduction, by  PAUL  LEICESTER  FORD.  Mr.  Ford  has  for  the 
first  time  collected  in  one  handy  volume  translations  of  those 
letters,  etc. ,  of  Columbus  which  describe  his  experiences  in  the 
discovery  and  occupation  of  the  New  World.  With  frontis- 
piece portrait.  ("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.")  Cloth, 
12mo,  75  cents. 

"  Surely  the  most  interesting  of  recent  contributions  to  Columbian 
literature."— Boston  Post. 

Under  Summer  Skies. — BY  CLINTON  SCOLLARD.  A  poet's 
itinerary.  Professor  Scollard  relates,  in  his  charming  literary 
style,  the  episodes  of  a  rambling  tour  through  Egypt,  Pales- 
tine, Italy,  and  the  Alps.  The  text  is  interspersed  with  poeti- 
cal interludes,  suggested  by  passing  events  and  scenes.  Com- 
ing nearer  home,  visits  to  Arizona  and  the  Bermudas  are 
described  in  separate  chapters.  The  volume  is  attractively 
illustrated  by  Margaret  Landers  Randolph,  and  is  most  suitable 
as  a  traveling  companion  or  as  a  picture  of  lands  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  reader.  Cloth,  8vo,  $1.00. 

"  These  records  of  his  wanderings  are  written  in  an  engaging  and 
unpretentious  style;  they  abound  in  poetic  descriptions  of  persons 
and  localities,  and  here  and  there  throughout  the  volume  are  delight- 
ful lyrics  which  lend  an  added  grace  to  the  prose." — The  Critic  (New 
York). 

Autobiographia.— BY  WALT  WHITMAN.  Edited  by  Arthur 
Stedman.  The  story  of  Whitman's  life,  told  in  his  own  words. 
These  selected  passages  from  Whitman's  prose  works,  chosen 
with  his  approbation,  are  so  arranged  as  to  give  a  consecutive 


diaries  L.  Webster  if-  Co.  7 

account  of  the  old  poet's  career  in  his  own  picturesque  lan- 
guage. Uniform  with  the  new  edition  of  Walt  Whitman's 
"Selected  Poems."  ("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.") 
Cloth,  12mo,  75  cents. 

"Selections  from  the  prose  writings  of  Walt  Whitman,  that  tell 
the  story  of  his  life  in  his  own  garrulous,  homely,  picturesque,  off-hand, 
lovable  way." — Hartford  Courant. 

Life  of  Jane  Welsh  Carlyle. — BY  MRS.  ALEXANDER  IRE- 
LAND. A  remarkable  biography  of  a  wonderful  woman, 
written  and  compiled  by  one  in  thorough  sympathy  with  her 
subject,  from  material  made  public  for  the  first  time.  The 
powerful  side-light  it  throws  upon  the  life  and  character  of 
Thomas  Carlyle  will  make  the  volume  indispensable  to  all  who 
venerate  the  genius,  or  are  interested  in  the  personality,  of  the 
Sage  of  Chelsea.  Vellum,  cloth  (half  bound),  8vo,  $1.75. 

11  A  satisfactory  and  even  valuable  memoir." — Philadelphia  Ledger. 
"  We  have  seldom  seen  a  more  sympathetic  and  delightful  biog- 
raphy."— New  York  Sun. 

Essays  in  Miniature.  —  BY  AGNES  REPPLIER,  author  of 
"  Points  of  View,"  etc.  A  new  volume  of  this  brilliant  essay- 
ist's writings,  in  which  she  discourses  wittilv  and  wisely  on  a 
number  of  pertinent  topics.  No  new  essayist  of  recent  years 
has  been  received  with  such  hearty  commendation  in  this 
country  or  England.  ("Fiction,  Fact,  and  Fancy  Series.") 
Cloth,  12mo,  75  cents. 

"  Culture  and  freshness  are  deftly  mingled  in  these  brief  and  often 
breezy  capers,  in  which  one  may  search  in  vain  for  a  dull! sentence." 
-The  Book  Buyer  (New  York). 


Boofce  b£  Ibenrp  (Beetle. 

A  Perplexed  Philosopher, ,being  an  examination  of  Mr.  Her- 
bert Spencer's  various  utterances  on  the  land  question,  with 
some  incidental  references  to  his  Synthetic  Philosophy.  Cloth, 
12mo,  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 

"  Mr.  George  certainly  has  the  courage  of  his  convictions.  .  .  .  Many 
who  do  not  care  for  single  tax  theories  will  find  enjoyment  in  Mr. 
George's  dialectics,  and  while  the  fight  goes  on  there  is  plenty  of  fur 
flying,  with  which  other  philosophers  may  line  their  own  nests."— Tiie 
Churchman. 

Progress  and  Poverty. — An  inquiry  into  the  cause  of  indus- 
trial depressions,  and  of  increase  of  want  with  increase  of 
wealth:  the  remedy.  Thirteen  years  of  criticism  and  contro- 
versy have  failed  to  shake  the  position  of  this  famous  work, 
and  the  steady  growth  of  its  influence  is  more  and  more  justi- 
fying those  who  hailed  it  as  the  most  important  book  of  the 
century.  Cloth,  $1.00.  Paper,  50  cents. 


8  Popular  New  Books 

Social  Problems. — "  My  endeavor  has  been  to  present  the  mo- 
mentous social  problems  of  our  time,  unincumbered  by  tech- 
nicalities, and  without  that  abstract  reasoning  which  some  of 
the  principles  of  Political  Economy  require  for  thorough  ex- 
planation."— Extract  from  Author's  Preface.  Cloth,  $1.00. 
Paper,  50  cents. 

Protection  or  Free  Trade.— An  examination  of  the  tariff 
question  with  especial  regard  to  the  interests  of  labor.  The 
most  thorough  and  readable  examination  of  the  tariff  question 
ever  made.  The  great  influence  this  work  is  exerting  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  besides  its  issues  in  other  languages,  no  less 
than  one  million  five  hundred  thousand  copies  have  been 
issued  in  various  forms  in  English  alone,  between  its  first  pub- 
lication in  1886  and  November,  1892.  Cloth,  $1.00.  Paper, 
50  cents. 

Works  of  Henry  George.—  A  complete  edition  of  the  works 
of  Henry  George  is  now  in  preparation,  comprising  the  four 
volumes  already  on  our  list,  together  with  two  or  three  new 
volumes  containing  the  remainder  of  Mr.  George's  writings. 
Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00  each.  Paper,  50  cents. 


flDtecellaneous, 

Tariff  Reform:  The  Paramount  Issue.— Speeches  and  writ- 
ings on  this  leading  question  of  the  day.  By  WILLIAM  M. 
SPRINGER,  Chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Ways  and  Means 
of  the  House  of  Representatives,  Fifty-second  Congress.  With 
portraits  of  the  author  and  others.  This  book  is  endorsed  by 
Hon.  Grover  Cleveland,  Hon.  Adlai  E.  Stevenson,  Hon.  Calvin 
S.  Brice,  and  Hon.  John  G.  Carlisle.  Cloth,  library  style, 
$1.50.  Paper,  $1.00. 

The  Art  of  Sketching.— BY  G.  FRAIPONT.  Translated  from 
the  French  by  Clara  Bell.  With  preface  by  Edwin  Bale, 
R.  I.  That  this  little  book  is  from  the  hand  of  a  French  artist 
will  make  it  none  the  less  acceptable  to  American  students. 
Its  references  are  mostly  French  because  its  author  is  so,  and 
it  is  unnecessary,  as  well  as  undesirable,  to  disturb  these  in 
order  to  adapt  them  to  American  readers.  The  treatise  is 
mainly  intended  for  the  use  of  artists  in  Black  and  White.  It 
is  short,  but  it  is  practical  and  good;  and  if  Americans  do  not 
know  the  work  of  the  French  artists  referred  to,  it  will  be  a 
useful  experience  for  them  to  search  it  out.  With  fifty  illus- 
trations from  drawings  by  the  author.  Cloth,  12mo,  $1.00. 


Charles  L.  Webster  &  Co.  9 

Physical  Beauty:  How  to  Obtain  and  How  to  Preserve 
It. — BY  ANNIE  JENNESS  MILLER.  A  practical,  sensible, 
helpful  book  that  every  woman  should  read,  including  chap- 
ters on  Hygiene,  Foods,  Sleep,  Bodily  Expression,  the  Skin, 
the  Eyes,  the  Teeth,  the  Hair,  Dress,  the  Cultivation  of  In- 
dividuality, etc.,  etc.  Fully  illustrated,  octavo,  300  pages. 
White  Vellum,  Gold  and  Silver  Stamps,  in  Box,  $2.00;  Blue 
Vellum,  $2.00. 

"  Every  woman  will  be  a  more  perfect  woman  for  reading  it;  more 
perfect  in  soul  and  body." — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

"  Her  arguments  are  sane,  philosophical,  and  practical." — New  York 
World. 

"  Parents  may  well  place  it  in  the  hands  of  their  young  daughters." 
Cincinnati  Commercial-Gazette. 

The  Speech  of  Monkeys. — BY  R.  L.  GARNER.  Mr.  Garner's 
articles,  published  in  the  leading  periodicals  and  journals 
touching  upon  this  subject,  have  been  widely  read  and  favor- 
ably commented  upon  by  scientific  men  both  here  and  abroad. 
"The  Speech  of  Monkeys"  embodies  his  researches  up  to  the 
present  time.  It  is  divided  into  two  parts,  the  first  being  a 
record  of  experiments  with  monkeys  and  other  animals,  and 
the  second  part  a  treatise  on  the  theory  of  speech.  The  work 
is  written  so  as  to  bring  the  subject  within  reach  of  the  casual 
reader  without  impairing  its  scientific  value.  With  portrait 
frontispiece.  Cloth,  small  8vo,  $1.00. 


